All Things Great And True
by Rebel Paisley
Summary: A series of late night communications as the rangers prepare for their Third Annual Reunion. Because saviors of the universe don't really understand "appropriate" calling hours. Covers MMPR-DT.
1. Hunter and Leo - Morpher

Chapter 1

_Look at the Sky –_ Hunter/Leo: Morpher

Summary: A series of midnight communications as the rangers prepare for their third annual reunion. Because saviors of the universe don't really understand "appropriate" calling hours. Covers MMPR-DT.

Here it is, my four year anniversary piece. Yep, four years ago today I posted my very first story on the internet. To celebrate this, I post a special story/chapter on this date, for those of you who have been reading since the beginning, or for those of you who are just hopping in. If my words bring you any amount of entertainment, I'm glad. Thank you for reading. A writer's nothing without an audience, and I have been lucky enough to have a really freakin' awesome one for four years. Here's to you guys :)

Notes: This story is based off a personal challenge to explore different ways of late-night electronic communication. Because power rangers do not have bedtimes. It's set about halfway through Mystic Force's run, a couple years after the events of Filled with Good Works. You don't have to be familiar with that story to read this one, but it, and its predecessors (Any Moment, Paved with Good Intentions) are just where a lot of the relationships are established.

Warnings: Mentions of boy/boy relations, hints of adult situations, mild cursing, mild un-politically correctness. This chapter features Hunter/Shane, with references to Leo/Kai, Adam/Rocky, and Eric/Wes. Did I mention I'm a fan of slash? I'm a fan of slash.

Also, this baby's raw and un-beta'd; so any and all mistakes are the work of my half-asleep brain.

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><p>Three AM morpher alarms were not unexpected occurrences. They sure as hell weren't <em>welcomed<em>, but they had happened enough times in Hunter's life that blond could bust through the welcoming arms of blessed sleep (and the literal arms of his man-slave, Shane) and force enough coherency that he could manage the simple instructions of _where_ and _who_ and get on his merry way to face-punching. Fun fact: Tori may or may not have used this (and Dustin's similar lethargy) to her advantage one time to spring a Q-Rex intervention party. Hunter assumed Blake got excluded from this because he got his own earful of Tori/Cam/Shane wrath privately, but that was neither here nor there.

Look, it wasn't like they could change the fact that Q-Rex enjoyed the weekend outings just as much as they did, but Eric's perpetual frown of _I-am-not-impressed, _combined with the level-headed trio's looks of _we-are-done-with-your-shenanigans_ always begged to differ.

Hunter digressed.

In his defense, it was freakin' three in the goddamn _morning._

Therefore, it was perfectly acceptable that it took Hunter a few seconds to realize that his morpher was not, in fact, giving off the chirps that indicated it was battle time, _now_. No, this variety was of the softer type, the subtle ones, the ones that said, 'oh, don't mind me, but there needs to be some serious ranger business discussed post-haste so if you could get a chance to pick up the call – _now _– that would be super swell, friend'.

Which, you know, still warranted active focus and seriousness and whatnot, except the guy that just about always made those kinds of calls was currently residing in the very warm and comfortable bed Hunter had just _vacated_, and Cam would have just knocked on the door.

That meant this was a pleasure call. A leisure- whatever, it wasn't for business, was the point.

Hunter didn't really like entertaining the idea of 'pleasure' calls sans-Shane, because the images his brain produced at three in the morning were not particularly appropriate for calls delivered via morpher.

"Dustin," Hunter snapped. "I swear to all that is holy if you are calling me because of birthday crap-"

"_It's your birthday?"_ The voice at the other end of the line asked, eager, and genuinely surprised by this possibility.

Hunter recognized that playful(-ly stupid) tone almost immediately. "_Leo_," he hissed.

"_Hunter_!" The red Lost Galaxy ranger chirped right back. _Right back_. Way too loud. In Hunter's ear. He should probably lower his morpher away from his face. "_Pookums,_ _how are you doing?"_

"Leo," Hunter repeated again, latching onto the name like a lifeline, trying to pull himself into complete consciousness. "Leo, do you know what time it- Wait, stupid question, you probably don't care."

"_That is true_," Leo noted thoughtfully. _Hell_, what an asshole. Leo was essentially a cheerful from of Hunter, all maniacal glee and _evil_ delivered in peppy wrapping paper. "_Time differences, you know_," Leo continued happily. "_It's difficult to calculate it between Earth and Miranoi_."

Hunter tactfully decided not to mention the fact that Leo and his buddies had been up on their hippie 'foreign habitation initiative' colony for at least five years now, and if they hadn't figured out the time difference thing by this point, they had bigger concerns than calling home. First and foremost being that apparently the most shining new minds of their generation turned out to be a bunch of retards.

Leo wisely opted not to say anything, because Leo was kind of awful, and inspired that thought progression in the first place.

There was some semi-coherent mumbling from the direction of the bed Hunter had vacated.

"…Leo?" Shane echoed faintly, his mouth struggling around the name, clearly confused as to how it could enter their life here, at this moment, within the safety of Ninja Ops. "Tell your friend to…" There was a yawn, and Shane stretched one lazy arm over his head, letting it flop back down with a graceless _thwump_. "_Sleeeeep_," Shane muttered.

And with that, the golden boy of the Ninja Storm team promptly burrowed himself back under the covers, leaving Hunter to his misery. Such a thoughtful boyfriend.

"He is not my friend," Hunter muttered, glaring at the mound of brightly colored blankets resting on _his_ bed. Dustin had gone a little overboard with the 'housewarming' gift for Hunter and Shane's private apartment at the Ops'. While rainbow was not particularly Hunter's style, he had appreciated the notion, and also the notion of shirtless Shane on rainbow blankets, because apparently he had issues. "Just because I clean him out in poker once a month-"

"_Someone is not remembering the last poker night very well_," Leo noted, obnoxiously and with great effort. "_If I recall correctly, Adam-_"

"What do you _want_ Leo?" Hunter snapped. Irritation had worked off whatever dredges of exhaustion Hunter had left behind. Honestly, it wasn't like Shane really needed to know exactly how Hunter had gotten his winnings back from the Black Ninjetti ranger. _He_ sure as heck wasn't going to go into detail about cleaning dojo floors or covering Rocky's novice classes to give the guy and his poker-face-of-champions boyfriend a chance to have a date night. Not if he could help it.

As though sensing this – as it had been his wicked, wicked plan the entire time – Leo was more than happy to change tracks. "_Quick question_," he began. Hunter could hear the smile in his voice. "_I was thinking about getting Kai a gift, for the reunion and all-"_

"_Gaaahr-_" Hunter forced down the urge to bash his head against the wall, and settled on tugging at his hair uselessly as he processed this. "Did you seriously call me, at three AM, for _boyfriend_ advice?"

"_I figured you would be the most appropriate party for knowing such things,"_ Leo defended, still riding on his hidden train of lollipops and sunshine and _dickery_. "_I'm dating a team genius; __**you're**__ dating a team genius. It makes sense."_

"Wait, wait-wait,wait,wait-" Hunter pulled his wits around him, trying to get off the ineffective loop of ramblings into something actually coherent. "_Wait_, I'm not-"

Hunter took a moment to breathe, pinching the bridge of his nose, and counted to five. Behind him, he could hear Shane shifting on the bed. Knowing the red ranger, that ass was turning to enjoy the show, giving up sleep in favor of a more amusing pastime.

"That's _Dustin,_ asshole," Hunter lectured, glaring at his morpher. "Did you seriously get us confused? I'm dating Shane, the _you_ of our team."

"_Oh good_." Leo did not sound particularly put off by his error. "_Then maybe you could speculate what kind of gift Kai would get me, from one guy dating the team leader to-"_

"_STOP_," Hunter groaned, growled, gargled. It was a very intense few seconds, but it shut Leo up appropriately. Because of the laughter, and all that. "Leo, if you honestly called me at three AM because you supposedly _forgot_ that I am dating _Shane-_" Not Cam, and even if Hunter and the green ranger had finally gotten onto the timid path of _fwiendship_ (as so declared by Dustin with a triumphant fist pump), the blond really didn't like entertaining the thought of a Shane-free relationship. "You know, the guy I just talk about _all the-_"

Hunter snapped his mouth shut, his mind finally catching up to the stream of rambling issued forth unto his morpher, and he cursed his stupid, stupid brain. He could practically _hear_ Shane perking up behind him.

"All the what?" Shane asked, the epitome of innocence. "All the _time_? Why Hunter, I didn't know you were such a softy-"

"Shut up." Hunter jabbed a finger in the direction of the bed, stubbornly staying turned away. "Slip of the tongue, my bad. What I meant to say was '_Shane_, that guy I talk about on a fairly-regular basis to lament the somewhat lackluster personality attached to those abs of steal. Really, it's a terrible, terrible shame'."

"_We __**do**__ hear a lot about his biceps," _Leo noted thoughtfully.

"_Awww_," Shane drawled, grin clear in his voice. "I love you too Hunter. Feel free to brag about me anytime."

"My conquests are always more satisfying when shared among the unwashed masses," Hunter replied lightly. "So sure, I can do that."

"_Oh, tell me about his sexy leader-face again!"_ Leo chirped. _"I love that part. The adjectives alone are quite inspiring._"

"Really?" Hunter tilted his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing. "I thought it was all about the similes."

"_Metaphors_," Leo countered brightly.

"I like to mix it up," Hunter answered Shane's unasked question. And then felt inspired by the immediate need for payback. "But let's just say there are certain assets beyond my ability to justly describe, so I have to get creative."

"Assets?" Shane echoed.

Hunter shrugged, still facing the wall. "Features. Traits. Qualities. Factors. Virtues-"

"_I think he's talking about your dick_," Leo, never one to avoid crudities, declared gleefully.

Like Hunter said, a cheerful version of himself.

"Also, there's this thing he does with his tongue," Hunter added, because he might be awake now but this conversation was _here_ and he couldn't just _not_ play the game of verbal chicken. "It's really quite impressive."

"_What tongue thing_?" Leo asked eagerly. If Hunter could see him now, he was sure the brunette would be bouncing in place with barely contained enthusiasm.

"Yeah Hunter," Shane drawled from behind him, stifling another yawn with one big, man-paw. "What tongue thing? I want details."

And this was why Hunter shouldn't be allowed to have three AM conversations, especially with Leo (and now Shane, who should have some kind of sense of propriety but apparently Hunter had corrupted that, _oops_). Once the game was afoot no one was going to back down from embarrassment, and eventually there was going to be a line of over-sharing that landed somewhere between Dustin's _'Cam likes it when I talk calculus' _to Adam's '_Sometimes Rocky cooks naked_'. They were all things they were better off not knowing. By a lot.

No one talked about Eric's over-share. Not even in jest. That was a pact of the poker table that didn't need to go beyond that night.

Really though, Hunter never would have suspected Wes had it in him.

_Anyway…_

"Well," Hunter began, shaking off that mental sidetrack with a valiant shudder. "When a man and another man aggressively-tolerate each other very much-"

"'Love'!" Shane called, raising his voice so Leo could hear him clearly. "The word he's looking for is 'love'!"

Apparently even at three in the morning, hearing Shane say those words in relation to Hunter was enough to make the blond go a little weak at the knees. It was better, he had decided, when Shane slipped it into casual conversation, because that made it just another constant, a foundation that would not shake or yield that would _always_ be there, like sunshine, or fish tacos.

(Dustin had been adamant about the latter point.)

Hunter was pretty sure Shane knew that fact too, and used it to his advantage frequently. Hunter couldn't even begrudge him for it. He adored the guy, through and through.

It should be terrifying, but Hunter embraced it.

That should be terrifying too.

"The aggression is in the sex," Hunter added offhandedly, waving Shane off. "Speaking of, if I'm going to be awake at the butt-crack-of-dawn-"

"Ever the poet, my aggressively-tolerating cohort," Shane quipped, his voice full of humor.

"-then I demand that you get to the point of this delightful little communication-" Hunter turned to look at Shane pointedly, raising one eyebrow in challenge. "-or I'm going to get to making the beast with two backs with vigorous abandonment."

And how was _that_ for hoity-toity language?

Shane responded with thoughtful golf-claps, the smartass.

"_I already told you about the present-advice_," Leo laughed. "_Can't a guy check in to hear your dulcet tones?"_

"It's always an option," Hunter agreed. "But I was thinking that maybe you might have had another nightmare."

The smile on Shane's face froze and got a little softer, a sad thing infused with too much understanding.

Pressing on, Hunter spoke over the sudden silence on the other end of a line. "And I'm also going to guess that Kai is MIA for the moment, otherwise you would be talking to him."

Leo continued to remain silent, but Hunter didn't need words to confirm his theory. He understood the desperate, almost indefinable _need_ for distraction in the early hours of the morning. Those times when you were gripped by a terror with no form, one that scraped you raw on the inside while you came to terms with the very real fact that the only thing to be scared of was your own mind.

For this, Hunter did not blame Leo for waking him up. He didn't even begrudge the gibes, or Shane's own interrupted sleep cycle. It was a favor he knew the other ranger would return easily, any day, no questions asked.

But Hunter was not Leo. Hunter could live in peaceful solitary without a second thought; Hunter knew how to thrive in silence. It was how he had been raised; it was how he had learned to survive. It was not a base state of understanding, not something he particularly enjoyed, but he understood it.

Hunter didn't know Leo's past - not many beyond his team did - but from one 'troubled child' to another, Hunter knew there was a little street rat in Leo. Knew that his childhood hadn't been a picnic, despite the addition of a dedicated older brother (a birth brother, one he had been born and raised with, loved by without fault). Hunter also knew, based on the way Leo had built his shields, that the other ranger desperately - without ever being able to form the question with his own power - wanted to speak. Wanted to be heard, and understood.

Hunter could give that to him.

He waited, allowing Leo time to pull himself together. Behind him, he could hear Shane shifting until he was sitting up, his back pressed against the headboard. Tori had helped Shane pick it out. It was technically Hunter's room, his home while he finished up his studies (you know, for ninja masterhood and all that) and Shane continued his exciting life in college. They had picked out matching end tables, but Hunter and Blake had tackled the desk, the couch, the loveseat. Cam had taken care of all the electronics free of charge, upgrading the television and cable box and clocks and lamps and 'mood lighting' (recessed lights, whatever, it helped the _mood_). Dustin, who had mourned the lack of windows in an underground base (sure, there may have been a plethora of housing options to choose from in the building above them, now that the academy had been rebuilt, but down below felt like home and Shane hadn't argued), had gone on a shopping spree that ended with way too many couch cushions, dish cloths, towels, blankets, and bed pillows to ever be considered necessary.

Afterwards, when Hunter had cornered the yellow ranger on his lonesome, he had hugged Dustin tight to thank him. Hunter didn't have the words to describe his appreciation for the added touch of _home_, and Dustin hadn't demanded any, because sometimes, Dustin understood the words you didn't say better than anyone else.

Now, in this place the team had helped him built (as they had with Shane's dorm room, and Cam and Dustin's apartment, and Blake's trailer, and Tori's condo), Hunter settled in beside Shane on the bed and waited patiently, leaning against his boyfriend's side, offering strength, returning the comfort that was so easily given.

They waited, and then Leo spoke.

"_I think I'm going crazy_," Leo complained quietly. Leo's serious tone was without inflection, it was soft and very calculated, like he was careful with his words. _"Kai keeps saying he's getting a bad feeling about something. He won't say what it is- hell, I don't think he even __**knows**__ what it is, but he's out looking for answers and I'm just-"_

He cut off with a deep breath, sucking the air in a quick inhale, letting it loose slowly. "_I support him_." Not that either of them doubted that, but he needed to say it, so Hunter let it be said. "_I do. With his past- Look, his gut's usually right, right? But now I keep getting these nightmares-_"

He didn't know what to say, or how to say it, which was why he had probably called Hunter in the first place, instead of Eric.

Eric had a tough childhood too, but he had pretty much bulldozed through any adversity with the grace of a lumbering giant. He didn't give two shits about proper decorum, which was how he had gotten to where he was today.

Leo really didn't need bulldozing right now. And he didn't need Adam's quiet reassurances, because as helpful as Adam could be, sometimes calling him felt like interrupting a fairytale life. Like they were barely worthy to tarnish such flagrant _wholesomeness_ with whatever crap their pitiful hides came up with.

(It didn't matter if Adam had been around the longest, if he had fought the good fight for more years than any of them; there were just something sanctums that were difficult to cross).

"_It's my subconscious, right?" _Leo asked, laughing quietly. _"My anxieties about what Kai thinks he's going to find- that's just it, all building up and attacking my dreams."_

"Nightmares," Hunter corrected automatically.

There was a pause, then another laugh. "_Yeah, that_."

"It doesn't help that Kai isn't there," Hunter noted. Shane nodded, agreeing with this point, and draped an arm across Hunter's shoulders. Big softie.

"_No,_ _it doesn't_." A regrettable truth, and Leo's resentment wasn't so much as audible as it was all encompassing. _"I'm just worried. We're so far from anyone else, if something happens-_" There was another quick inhale. _"It's just us. We're the only ones here to protect the colonists_."

"Say the word and I'm there Leo." Shane startled at this, but Hunter kept going, his eyes fixed on the wall across from them. "Say the word and I will be there in a heartbeat, wormholes and space ships be damned. Cam's got this new deep-space vehicle he's been tinkering with anyway, I'm sure he'd leap at the chance for it to get a test run-"

"_No_," Leo said, and it wasn't desperate or objecting. It was tired. "_No. No, it's- It's not that much longer until the reunion, I'll give you an update then, just-" _He breathed, and Hunter breathed along with him, leaning into Shane's side.

The air ninja didn't say anything, but maybe he knew the argument was moot anyway. Hunter and Dustin, they didn't have the same schedules to keep as all the others. Ninja training could be more flexible, not like Cam's thesis deadlines, or Shane and Tori's college course loads or Blake's arranged races. Their classes could be assigned to other teachers; their training could be put off.

Shane didn't like it, but he understood it.

Okay, honestly, Shane hated it, but Shane was willing to put on his big-boy pants about it because he was a far more mature human being than Hunter could ever pretend to be.

"_Thank you, Hunter_," Leo said, a quiet apology.

"Any time Leo," Hunter promised. "Any time."

Just a few years ago, he would have found the idea of sincerely making such a significant promise ridiculous, if not impossible.

Then again, just a few years ago Hunter was nothing but a bitter, wounded teenager who distrusted the entirety of the world with the exception of his brother, was Shane-less, morpher-less, and horribly empty, lacking the family and worth that time had so generously bestowed him.

A few years ago, Hunter wouldn't have been able to think _that_ thought without feeling the urge to punch himself in the face.

It was an awe-inspiring marvel, to consider the power time had over them. The opportunities for growth that could be allowed in only a handful of years.

"_I'm gonna just…"_ Leo trailed off, swallowed. "_I think I'll just hit the hay now; leave you guys to it._ _I'll see you soon, okay?"_

"Of course," Hunter agreed, keeping his tone light. "Take care of yourself Leo. Don't do anything too stupid, alright?"

"_You know, most people would have excluded the 'too' part of that sentence_," Leo noted, beginning to sound a little bit like his old self. Not his shell, or the mask, but- calm, bright Leo. Tired, but still himself.

Hunter snorted. "Then most people don't know you too well." He rolled his eyes, pointedly ignoring the painful truth of that statement, and moved on. "So like I said, not _too_ stupid."

"_I'll do my best_," Leo promised. "_Keep him on the straight and narrow Shane, alright?"_

Shane, the traitor, nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best, Leo."

"I'm right _here_," Hunter complained. There wasn't any heat to it, but it needed to be acknowledged.

"_I know, I know_," Leo said, and for a second Hunter thought the Lost Galaxy ranger was actually responding to him. Then Leo continued. _"Impossible undertakings, and all that. But, if there was any guy for the job Shane…"_

"Yeah," Shane agreed with a smile and a sigh. "It's me." Hunter glared, moving to shift out from under his boyfriend's arm (the couch was beginning to look very appealing now, come to think of it), but Shane just latched on tighter, flopping his head pitifully against Hunter's shoulder. "Be careful Leo," Shane ordered, his voice deceptively level as Hunter began resisting his hold in earnest. "If anything were to happen to you, I think Hunter might cry."

"_Someone's_ about to cry," the blond growled, fidgeting intensifying. In response, Shane lowered his grip until it was around Hunter's forearms, pinning his hands against his sides. "And it sure as hell-"

"Bye Leo!" Shane sang sweetly, grinning at Hunter's glare.

Oh. _Someone_ was going to get it.

"_Night kiddoes,"_ Leo laughed. "_Ah, the sounds of young love. So-_"

"_Bye_ Leo," Hunter growled. He broke Shane's hold long enough to end the call on his morpher and jumped to his knees, landing at the opposite end of the bed, staring down his boyfriend.

His boyfriend, who was clearly uncaring of the storm he had just unleashed. Shane was slumped against the headboard, his posture a casual sprawl. The grin he wore was a mischievous thing that Hunter was ninety-nine percent sure Shane had never ever used before they had started dating.

"So, what was it you had said?" the air ninja asked casually, stretching one big arm over his head. His sleep shirt pulled taunt against his chest for just a few seconds, molding against the solid grooves of his muscle, and if Hunter knew anything it was that Shane had done it on freakin' purpose.

Shane cleared his throat, pulling Hunter's eyes away from his chest. He raised his eyebrows. "About the pre-dawn activities?"

Hunter considered the benefit of staying annoyed.

Shane waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

_Jesus_.

Hunter cracked his neck. "Alright," he agreed lightly. "First person to get the other's clothes off wins."

"There are losers in this arrangement?" Shane asked, genuinely curious.

Hunter grinned. It was a very particular grin, the full accumulation of a smirk that was part feral, part predatory, and _all_ of Shane's favorite things. "There are degrees of losing, I suppose."

They stayed there, eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each waiting for the moment when- not when they would say it - but just _know_, the game was afoot.

The light glinted in Shane's eyes, and Hunter jumped, skirting about the edge of the bed until he met Shane's tackle head-on, pushing his focus past the laughs and the happiness and contentment.

Not because they were bad. Just because there was more to be had, and Hunter was a greedy son of a bitch.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

I imagine the referenced poker table consists of: Leo (Lost Galaxy), Adam (MMPR-Turbo), Lucas (Time Force), Eric (Time Force), Hunter (Ninja Storm), and Dustin (Ninja Storm), with occasional guests. But for the most part, those are the guys. It's a throwback to 'Filled with Good Works'.

Also, Team Ninja Storm got to keep their morphers. _Cuz I said so_.

More chapters will be posted soon, features other rangers from other teams. I just have to finish editing them.

If you're interested in any of my other anniversary pieces, they are as follows:

Any Moment – Ch 45: The Rainbow Connection

Songs About Rainbows

Beyond that Bright World Lies Despair

Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

Until next time :D


	2. Trip and Dustin - Time Force

Chapter 2

_A Thousand Years –_ Trip and Dustin: Time Force

Warnings: Mentions of boy/boy and girl/girl relations. Chapter mentions Dustin/Cam, and Trip/Justin. Briefly references (kind of) Hunter/Shane, Kai/Leo, Angela/Joel, Jen/Katie.

Still raw and un-beta'd; all mistakes are still mine :)

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><p>"Do you think he'll like them?" Trip asked, fidgeting with the modifiers resting on the desk in front of him. "I mean, they're practical, so he'll like <em>that<em>, I guess-"

"_Dude_,_ he's going to love them_."

Trip glanced up towards the monitor, meeting Dustin's earnest gaze uncertainly. He trusted Dustin – with everything he had, he trusted Dustin – but Trip couldn't help but feel doubt weighing on his mind.

He wanted to get this gift right for Justin, which was why Trip had contacted Dustin in the first place (not because he thought the similar-names thing would help, but Dustin seemed to understand people and their gifting needs), but even with the reassurance things seemed…precarious.

Justin was- even though they had been friends for a few years now, sometimes he remained as difficult for Trip to understand as he had been day one. Meeting Justin hadn't been like meeting the other Time Force rangers, or even any of the other ranger techs. Justin was like Trip - a prodigy - and even in that, he still stood apart from his peers. In Trip's case, he had always figured that was attributed to the whole 'last-of-his-species' thing. He didn't really understand how humans were supposed to act, but he was too young to remember how Xybrian's acted either, so he just sort of did the best he could.

He wasn't sure what the deal was with Justin though, aside from his young age. Shouldn't he be revered for his accelerated learning? Celebrated? Justin would get to do more in his lifespan than a more senior human being with the same intellect; shouldn't that be a constant source of excitement for the Turbo ranger? He could make more discoveries, help _more_ people, he had more time (which was something Trip was thinking about more and more lately; time, time, time-), why shouldn't he be happy? Or, if not 'perpetually cheerful' (as Lucas had described _Trip_), at least confident?

Justin didn't doubt his abilities, but they didn't mold him, socially, as Trip would have expected them to.

In the end, Trip decided it was just a human thing- _no_, a Justin-thing, and stopped listing the things that confused him in favor of the stuff that…delighted him, he guessed, would be the best word.

(Lucas had laughed at that explanation, the one time Trip had gathered enough courage to admit it, but Katie and Dustin had both been supportive, the latter nodding thoughtfully that this was an appropriate response).

Trip liked Justin. He had always liked Justin; it was just hard to explain why. There was more to it than his intelligence. Because that was nice, to be able to talk about something and have someone there who wasn't perpetually confused, or asked Tripp very politely to stop speaking (there wasn't really a polite way to do it, and Jen had threatened to punch out the last person who tried), but it was more than that.

It was Justin's speed, his determination, his focus on doing the right thing. Sure, he grumbled and complained and emoted general displeasure (for a human), but since he always did the right thing, Trip knew it didn't matter. See, Justin was just like Eric. They both said all these things, things they didn't really mean, but their actions were always the right ones and that, for Trip, was what mattered.

There was this energy around Justin- more than what Trip's Xybrian senses detected – this urge to create, to gain, to know. Trip loved it, as much as he understood love. And he loved Justin, had always loved him.

Trip knew that humans did it differently. The few times he had tried to research the human concept of love, all that it entailed, he had been bombarded with so many conflicting messages that Alex had unplugged all of his computers and refused to grant Trip his access until he determined a more filtered approach to his dilemma.

In the end, Trip settled for talking to Dustin. And then Angela, and Kai, and Cam (it was quite intriguing to hear from both individuals in a relationship, but Trip had never informed them of the other's answers, even if they had been nearly identical). What it came down to was this: humans and Xybrian's loved differently.

Yeah, he knew it wasn't a surprising deduction, but it was true. Trip saw and he immediately understood that this person- their energy and their bearing and their– well, _everything_ – he knew that was the other part of him. For humans, this was sometimes the case, Angela had explained, but generally those relationships were not very thriving. Humans needed time and understanding, humans could be greatly changed by their experiences, and while that was true for Xybrians-

Xybrian's were raised to embrace change, because at their core, at their other's core, remained the other half of their heart.

It was different for humans, but for Trip, he knew. He couldn't really explain it, but he knew.

That was why Trip wanted to do this _right_. Why he _had_ to do it right. He already had a thousand years worth of cultural differences working against him, he couldn't mess this up just because of a difference in _species_. That was why he turned to Dustin as a consultant. If anyone would understand, it would be Dustin.

And maybe Cam, but Trip liked Dustin more. He smiled a lot.

"_You trust me, right?"_

Trip blinked, startled out of his contemplation as he met Dustin's earnest gaze in the monitor, the yellow ranger fretting with the cuff of his sweater distractedly.

"Of course," Trip replied. He was kind of confused why it had to be asked in the first place, he wouldn't have called Dustin otherwise.

Dustin nodded, taking the answer with a smile, and shrugged. "_Then dude, from one guy dating a genius to one guy __**aspiring**__ to date a genius-"_

"Not date," Trip corrected. He didn't want to date Justin. After extensive quizzing on the subject with Lucas (and then receiving actually _helpful_ information from Jen), Trip knew with complete certainty that 'dating' didn't fit the need he had with Justin.

The earth ninja furrowed his eyebrows, a familiar expression of confusion settling onto his features. "_Not date?"_ he echoed, tilting his head to the side.

"Not date," Trip confirmed.

Dustin tilted his head the other way. "_I thought you liked him_."

"Love him." There was a distinct difference. "I _love_ him."

"_You love him_," Dustin repeated, but he didn't sound confused this time. It was more like he was making it permanent in his head. "_Okay. Well, if you love him, why don't you want to date him?"_

This explanation, Trip knew.

"Dating is temporary," he clarified. "Dating has no set time limit. Dating can be ended. Dating has no official bearing."

"_It does when other people want to make moves on your man,"_ Dustin argued, frowning slightly.

Trip waved him off. "I'm not saying it's bad. Kai and Leo have been dating for a long time, they're happy together. You and Cam, Shane and Hunter; even Jen and Katie, who haven't been dating very long- they're all happy. I'm not saying it's not a satisfying experience."

"_It just isn't what you want_," Dustin summarized with a slow nod.

"Exactly." An eager smile spread onto Trip's face. _This_ was why he had contacted Dustin. Dustin would know, would understand the human- Xybrian differences, but would never judge Trip for them, would never condescend.

It happened sometimes- less and less since they had gotten back from Wes' time period, but even a thousand years of progression couldn't end the deep-rooted desire to mock what was not understood. Trip didn't blame anyone for it, it was their only way of coping with some concepts, to make them into something more intelligible, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, sometimes. That was why Trip practiced keeping a positive attitude. It made things a lot better.

It was another thing that made him really like Dustin and Katie. They were the _best_.

Excluding Justin, of course. Justin's superiority was inherent, and therefore need not be addressed.

"_So what __**do**__ you want?"_ Dustin asked, eyes wide, patiently waiting.

The answer, thankfully, had been covered in Jen's explanation of dating.

Trip's smile widened. "I want to marry him."

Marriage, Jen had elaborated, was the ultimate culmination of your efforts in dating. At least, generally speaking. Marriage was a formal claim of another person in the eyes of the law and the rest of society, a legitimate statement that an individual held the other half of your heart.

_That_ was what Trip wanted.

Dustin blinked, a shocked expression that was…calm, somehow? Processing, that was it. He was _processing_, trying to understand what he had not expected.

"_Dude_…" he said slowly, after a brief pause. "_Yeah, you definitely need to date him first_."

"But-" Trip could feel himself deflating.

Dustin was supposed to _understand_, he was supposed to back Trip up, increase his confidence, not rain on his _parade_.

(Trip had never heard the expression before Hunter had mentioned it, and there may have been a very satisfying afternoon of practical application for better understanding with the Ninja Ops sprinkler system before Cam figuratively rained on the literal rain on their…parade. It was very complicated).

"_No dude,"_ Dustin shook his head. "_Let me explain_. _I know what you're getting at, and I one hundred percent support you."_ Dustin lightly pounded one fist against his chest and held it up in solidarity.

Trip mimicked the motion, enthusiastically latching onto something he knew.

Dustin smiled. "_See, __**I**__ support you, but guys like Justin? They're like…" _he trailed off, his face scrunching into a contemplative expression. _"They're like Hunter!"_ he exclaimed suddenly, bouncing in his chair. "_Yeah, see, and guys like Hunter, they'll love you from the beginning, right? But if they __**know**__ they love you they freak out about it, so you have to kind of ease them into it_."

"That makes sense," Trip agreed, nodding thoughtfully. He _had_ noticed that Hunter wasn't the best with handling his emotions, but Trip had always assumed that had more to do with his perception of humans being skewed than it did with Hunter being Hunter.

"_Yeah it does_," Dustin grinned, his eyes bright as he continued his explanation. "_Like, you know what you're in for when you get started; all you've got to do is stay with him long enough to realize, 'hey, we're totally married' and __**then**__ you can get married_." Dustin sat back, pleased with himself. "_Even if you've been like, married the whole time. You just can't let him know it_."

"That's figurative, right?" Trip asked. "Because if we _really_ got married-"

"_It's figurative," _Dustin confirmed with a solemn nod. _"You just have to sneak him into it bro, activate your ninja stealth. He'll get there_."

Trip sighed, trying not to look too exasperated, and Dustin nodded sympathetically.

"_I know, I know,_" he said. _"It's a human thing. Gotta play by his rules, and __**then**__ you can pop the question."_

"What question?" The term sounded familiar, but Trip couldn't really place where and in what context he had heard it. He thought they were talking about dating.

"_The marriage question," _Dustin informed him enthusiastically. _"When the time is right, you do something really special – for like, you guys; so maybe you do genius things? – and then you get down on one knee, pull out a ring-"_

"There are rings involved?" Trip asked. He hadn't known it would be this complicated. Neither Jen nor Katie wore rings too often, they said it got in the way of their training, but he had seen Tori wearing something on her fingers from time to time.

"_Yeah dude_," Dustin replied. His curls bounced with his bobbed nod. "_Like, an engagement ring."_

"That's what you do _before_ you get married!" Trip exclaimed, snapping. He had liked that part better than the dating-thing, when Jen had explained it, but she hadn't given him any details onto how you were supposed to get there. It probably had to do with the stealth-wooing Dustin mentioned. She was so smart.

"_Yeah, you pick it out special, just for him, right?"_ Dustin said, both eyebrows lifting, his expression informative. "_And then you get down on one knee, show him the ring and say 'Justin, will you marry me?'."_

"And then what?" Trip's fingers were gripping tight against the edge of his desk in an effort to restrain his excitement. This was it; he was going to know _how_.

"_And then he says yes_," Dustin declared. "_And you get married and live happily ever after_."

"But I have to get him the ring first," Trip said, repeating Dustin's earlier explanation to help it sink in.

Sometimes, that helped.

"_No,_" Dustin shook his head. _"You have to __**date**__ first. Then the ring_."

"Oh- right, right," Trip waved at him distractedly, mind already turning over potential plans in his head. "And how long do we do that for?"

"_Until you think he won't freak out over it,"_ Dustin replied. Trip was beginning to think Dustin knew everything about relationships, or at least relationships with humans. He wondered why Lucas made fun of him so much for going to the earth ninja for advice. _"Remember, he's got to know you're figuratively married before you can get literally married. It's a waiting game_. _Rough estimate, I would say __**maybe**__ a few years?"_

"_Years_?" It had already _been_ years. Trip didn't want to wait _more _years.

He wanted to get married and get on to that happily ever after Dustin had mentioned. He wanted to share Justin's bed and run crazy experiments at four in the morning and he wanted to fight by the Turbo ranger's side without any complaint the next time there was a citywide catastrophe and time and the world and fate and reality was at stake, Trip wanted to be _there_. He didn't want to _wait_.

Dustin, because he knew – no matter _what_ Lucas thought – gave Trip a sympathetic look. _"I know dude. But hey, he's a smart guy. It probably won't take him long to figure it out."_

"How long have you been dating Cam?" Trip asked, suddenly struck by a thought. He should start collecting data, project a possible period for length-of-dating based on his findings.

"_Like, three years dude_," Dustin replied. He was confused again, probably not realizing the value of his contribution.

"Do you have a ring?" Trip didn't see one right now, but he wasn't sure if _having_ a ring necessitated _wearing_ the ring. Maybe that was part of the legal declaration. Like, you _got_ to wear the ring all the time, but you didn't _have_ too.

"_Nah, man_." Dustin held his hands up for Trip's inspection, turning them to show off both sides.

"Does Cam have one?" Trip pressed. Dustin hadn't said they _both_ needed rings, he had only said that you needed one to pop the question. If Dustin had done the asking, then maybe he didn't have a ring at all, but Cam did.

This was getting confusing again.

"_No dude_." Dustin shook his head. "_I haven't given him one_."

"Oh." Trip sagged back against his chair. Cam and Dustin had been dating for _three years_ and they still weren't married, or even engaged. Everyone knew they loved each other, and no one talked like there was ever a possibility of them being apart in the future, so why didn't they have rings? It seemed so illogical.

Trip drummed his fingers along the edge of his desk aimlessly, his eyes trailing to the morpher modifiers resting in front of his keyboard. He had made them out of the same materials he had used to create the Electro Booster- with a few enhancements, of course. They were constructed to be super resistant to a wide range of temperatures and pressures, from deep space to the bottom of the ocean, volcanic to icy tundra. It had taken a long time to perfect the design, but it had been worth it.

He hadn't gotten a lot of time in for testing, but ideally the modifiers would allow for Justin and Trip to communicate over different time periods without the burden of the more cumbersome communication equipment. While Trip's post as a Time Force liaison with Bio Labs was about to become a more permanent placement, meaning less trips back to the 'future', he still wanted to be able to communicate with Justin whenever the need arose. Just in case.

It had taken hundreds of hours to get the fabrication process exactly how he wanted it, exactly how he needed it to be for him and Justin. He had made them with his own two hands.

Which gave Trip a thought.

"Do you want one?"

Dustin wasn't a tech. He understood mechanical basics (Trip had been trying to lure him into studying engineering to no avail), but the yellow ranger probably didn't have the ability to create his own ring to give to Cam.

"_What_?" Dustin blinked, startled, but Trip eagerly moved on.

"I can build you one, if you want," Trip explained, bouncing in his seat. It was the least he could do. "You can give it to Cam, and then you can be officially married. I mean, he knows you're figuratively married, right?"

They had been dating for practically _ever_, Cam had to know. He was almost as smart as Trip, and _maybe_ as smart as Justin.

There was a pause, and more blinking, and it might have taken Trip a few moments to figure out it was happening because he had already begun to design the ring in his head. It would have to be super-durable, if Cam could potentially go into combat with it. Something resistant to most forces but not detrimental to the wearer- perhaps there could be some kind of buffer field to cushion the finger against-

"_Yeah…I guess_," Dustin said eventually, bringing Trip back to the conversation with a startle. What had they been talking about? _"He knows. We just haven't, you know…"_

Trip took in the yellow ranger's appearance, he was avoiding eye contact, looking off to the side, trailing off- all classic demonstrations of uncertainty.

Honestly, humans were so weird sometimes.

"I'm gonna make you one!" Trip declared. He already had it mostly figured out anyway. "I'll bring it to the reunion, and then you can do your…" Trip did some vague waving, hoping to communicate the entire 'special-dinner-on-one-knee-thing' without having to say it. "And then you can help ease Justin into dating. Deal?"

Dustin paused, considered this.

Then, he smiled. "_Dude_," he began, grin spreading across his face in triumphant victory. _"You've got yourself a deal_. _But it's gotta be green, alright?"_

Trip rolled his eyes. "Duh, I'm not _dumb_ Dustin."

Katie would help him figure out the design, or maybe Jen.

On second thought, Captain Logan had to forcibly pull the pink ranger off of undercover camouflage detail after the whole leather jumpsuit debacle with the mutorgs, so Jen probably wasn't the best one to ask. He would stick with Katie; maybe make a few visits to Tori.

"_My bad Trip,"_ Dustin replied, but he was still smiling. Trip made a note to check the Ops' equipment next time he visited, the camera was pulling up a glossy kind of reflection in Dustin's eyes. He probably just needed to upgrade the lens or something.

Trip shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Now, how did you start dating Cam?"

If he was actually going to do this '_dating_' ordeal - as strange as it was - he might as well get information from an experienced expert, right? Whatever Dustin had done seemed to be working fine for him.

"_Oh, dude_,"Dustin said, his eyes still showing that odd shine. _"That was the easy part_."

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

If you've read 'Any Moment', then you know exactly how it was the easy part :)

Thanks to Mara Greengrass for reviewing the last chapter, and thanks to everyone for reading this far. This one's for you guys.

Until next time.


	3. Eric and Team - Earpiece

Chapter 3

_Get, Get, Getting Along –_ Eric and team: Earpiece

Warnings: Bickering, slight self-esteem issues, mentions of boy/boy relations. References to Eric/Wes and Angela/Joel.

The rawest and un-beta'd-est. The mistakes are mine. _All mine_.

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

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><p>Eric pressed his back against the brick wall, flattening himself against the building behind him until he was as unobtrusive as possible. In the dark it didn't make much of a difference, but Eric wasn't one to slack on protocol just because he had some natural cover. He held a fist up, signaling for his squad to halt, then moved towards the edge of the building.<p>

He didn't see much when he ducked around the corner for a quick look, but he saw enough. Or at least, enough of a lack.

With one hand keeping his rifle trained in front of him, he used the other to activate the mouth mike of his earpiece. "Charlie team is in position. All units, what is your-?"

"_Took you long enough_."

Eric ground his teeth together, forcing himself to take in a slow breath. "Delta team," he said quietly. "This is an active training exercise, not a weekend stroll. Treat it as such."

"_Sorry dog face_," Taylor replied blithely. _"Your glaring lack of humor overwhelmed standard battle etiquette for a moment there; it was just so damn impressive._"

"This how you did things in the Air Force, Earhardt?" Eric rolled his eyes. "Or are we just privileged tonight?"

"_Think of it as a special gift to you Army runts_," the former yellow ranger shot back. "_As in, I am awake at three in the morning, so you get to deal with my particular brand of-_"

"Can't handle a few late nights?"

"_Can't handle a little attitude_?"

"_Carter, whose idea was it to put them on the same team_?" A quiet voice - distinctly belonging to the one and only Adam - asked. It was a resigned question, and one Eric did not particularly appreciate.

"_I'm pretty sure it was Wes'_," Carter replied. He sounded as equally resigned, the traitor.

"Should have picked Joel," Eric muttered. "_But no_, I thought I had chosen the lesser of two evils."

"_As a member of Joel's team, I can confidently say that you did_," Carter assured. Probably imagined himself as helpful. "_I'm surprised they considered him conscious enough for piloting, considering how much he complains about not sleeping_."

"_New baby in the house will do that to you,"_ Adam acknowledged. "_He probably saw the chance to test out experimental aircrafts as a godsend_."

"_Don't tell that to Angela._"

"Can we _focus_?" Eric snapped.

"_I suppose that would depend on your definition of focusing_," Taylor quipped. He could hear the damn smirk in her voice. "_If by 'focus', you mean gossip like a bunch of prepubescent-" _

"I mean focus in the traditional sense of 'get your shit together; we have an objective to reach'." Eric should have known better than to volunteer for this crap. Sure, it had sounded good on paper, but since when did anything ever execute as well as the utopian strategy planned for it?

"_Inspiring words_," Adam noted dryly. He sounded amused too, the ass.

Eric was taking back the foot massager he had bought the man for Christmas. There was no appreciation here at all.

"_What can you expect from a two-bit grunt?"_ Taylor asked. _"Besides, we all know Wes doesn't keep him around for his eloquence_."

"_Taylor._" There was a hint of warning to Carter's words, but Eric didn't heed it, didn't pay attention to it- or to Taylor- at all.

"Charlie team is in position," the Quantum ranger repeated, swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat. The streets were clear in front of them, but who knew how long that would last for. "What's the word on defense, Bravo? Have you seen any movement?"

There was a heavy sigh. _"Meyers-"_ Taylor began.

"Bravo team," Eric repeated, keeping his voice light. Free. Un-tense. He wasn't tense. So it wasn't hard to keep it from _not_ being that way. It was completely natural. "What is your status?"

"_No sign of enemy movement,_" Adam reported. _"All squad members answered the last check in."_

"Good," Eric replied, nodding. "That means they haven't determined where our main base is. We need to strike before we lose our lead."

"_Meyers-_" Taylor tried again.

"_Eric_," Carter added.

Despite however well Eric thought he knew the Lightspeed ranger, Carter always surprised him for when he decided to give people space, and when he decided it was time to talk.

"What?" Eric snapped. They had things to do. Time wasn't going to be on their side forever, and Eric wasn't throwing this training exercise over something as stupid as hurt feelings. Taylor didn't even have a point, they all _knew_ that.

"_I'm sorry,_" Taylor said. _"That was out of line. Even for-_"

Adam started hacking, a few rough coughs that sounded suspiciously like _'not now'_.

Taylor sighed. _"Alright, look. I know you guys think I'm a piloting master for all things air-related - as well you should - but sometimes trying out these experimental aircrafts that Chen and Stewart and your whole little brain quorum thinks up kind of…stresses me out. I wasn't really paying attention to what I was saying."_

"_So it was only a matter of time before you said something stupid_," Adam added, part-chide, part-reprimand, _all_ wise-guy-who-sneaks-his-knowledge-up-on-you-in-silence-because-_ninja_.

It was always the quiet ones.

Taylor let out a disgruntled noise. _"Yeah, yeah. It was stupid. Your blondee totally loves you for more than just your glorious biceps."_

"_Do you think they're as good as Shane's?"_ Adam asked jokingly, his voice full of mirth.

"Do _not_ mention Shane's biceps," Eric muttered, interrupting the possible requests of clarification from Carter and Taylor. "That's just asking for trouble."

"_Trouble, in this instance, comes in the form of a devoted boyfriend who is very descriptive about __**his**__ boyfriends…assets_," Adam explained.

"_Assets?" _Taylor asked. "_Or just his __**ass**__-_"

"You know what? I'm just moving in," Eric decided. He could hear Taylor and her two probes flying around above them. She would keep an eye out for offensive forces. "Angela, are you still online?"

"_Monitoring all channels for possible complications_," the tech's voice replied dryly, sounding amused. That answered the question as to whether she was awake or not. "_What can I do for you Charlie team?"_

"If you could just lose the audio from the past five minutes for the official training report, I'd really appreciate it."

Wes didn't need to know about any…altercations over the comm.; that was more between a captain and his team, anyway.

"_You're in luck Charlie team," _Angela replied. "_It would seem that those audio files have been corrupted_."

Eric smiled, all teeth. "I knew there was a reason I liked you best, Angie."

"_Don't push your luck Meyers," _Angela chided. It was somewhat hindered by the obvious warmth in her tone. _"Now, go and finish your mission._"

"_Mission, she calls it_," Taylor griped as soon as the tech left the channel. _"Really, we're considering a game of Capture the Flag a mission, now?"_

"It's a mission when Wes is leading the other team," Eric replied. "Now let's move out. I bet anything he put TJ on defense, that means there'll be at least four different decoy flags."

"_How do you think Ryan's doing_?" Adam asked as Eric moved his team into position, motioning for his squad of Silver Guardians to follow him around the corner, deeper into enemy territory.

"_If he's anything like me, he's just keeping his head above water,_" Carter replied, humor clear in his voice.

"_Oh, ha-freakin'-HAH, stoic man,_" Taylor grumbled. _"You know you love us_."

"_Our biceps, at least_," Adam offered in his usual wicked amusement.

"_Shut up_," Taylor ordered distractedly. _"I'm gonna try and do a barrel roll._"

"Wing nuts," Eric grumbled. "They have the attention span of a gnat."

"_I __**heard**__ that Meyers_," Taylor scoffed. _"And after I pull off this awesome barrel roll, I'm gonna find Joel and lead him straight to your ass."_

"_Here's to multi-agency cooperation,"_ Carter said quietly, a smile in his voice.

"_And civilian consultation_," Adam added.

"_You guys are too mushy_," Taylor complained. "_Why do I hang out with you again?"_

"You act like we had a choice in the matter." They hadn't, as far as Eric knew.

He really should have picked Joel.

"_Heard that __**too**__ asshole_," Taylor said triumphantly. "_That's it; I'm playing tag with Joel. That seems like a way more rewarding pastime right now_."

"_Let us know who wins,"_ Adam called with a laugh.

Eric rolled his eyes, allowing the chatter to wash over him, and moved forward. The faster they captured the flag, the faster he could lord his victory over Wes and get back into bed with him, sleeping as one should at this god forsaken hour of the morning.

"_Hey,_" Taylor called, snapping Eric out of his reverie. "_You still with us dog face?"_

"Yeah, yeah," Eric muttered, pressing onward. "I'm with you."

Whether he liked it or not.

But honestly, he liked it. He really, really did.

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

I imagine this as a joint training exercise between Bio Labs-Lightspeed Rescue-The Space team, with a few civilian consultants thrown in by way of Adam, Taylor, and Joel. This is sort of how I picture the build up to all the Earth-bound agencies that created ranger teams merging together into one entity. For now though, they're separate, with a lot of liaisons and joint missions.

And of course, thanks to iamastory for their review. As always, I am much obliged :D

Until next time :)


	4. Justin and Cam - Email

Chapter 4

_Reviewing the Situation –_ Justin and Cam: Email

Warnings: Mentions of boy/boy, discussion of sexuality, insomnia, and nightmares. References to Justin/Trip and Cam/Dustin.

RAAAAAW, no beta. I own each and every mistake.

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><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

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><p>No matter how much he glared at it- and Justin had glared at it a rather impressive amount, even for himself – the monitor in front of him continued to produce an annoying white fuzz he had come to recognize as a busy signal.<p>

A busy signal. He was getting a freakin' _busy signal_ from the future. It shouldn't even be scientifically possible. Justin was calling forward to a specific area of time, so logically, the communication equipment should select a period in which Trip's 'end of the line' - so to speak - was free for contact. The fact that he was getting nothing but static, essentially, meant that someone had to be calling the green ranger at the same time as _Justin_, leaving his signal to be rerouted to this blank screen of nothingness.

No wait- it would mean that Trip was calling someone at this exact time, wouldn't it? Maybe? And, yeah, Trip wasn't always the best at gauging these things- less from an intellectual standpoint and more from being unfamiliar to human culture point of view- but generally Trip didn't call people at three in the morning. Or if he did, they informed him of the exact time, he apologized with wide, confused eyes, and that was the end of it.

So when Justin's call had been basically redirected, he had just waited. Because Trip would be done soon. He _had_ to be done soon.

Twenty minutes later, Justin gave into the logic that Trip was actually having a conversation with someone. At three in the morning. And they hadn't hung up on him yet.

When Justin traced the call back to Ninja Ops (shut up, he was bored, and it proved to be an interesting enough challenge), it did not take long to deduce exactly _who_ Trip was talking to.

_Dustin_.

Before he could put too much thought into it, Justin opened up a new email to vent his frustrations, aiming his ire at someone who could potentially aid him in his quest to talk to Trip. He had hit a roadblock with his scanning algorithm for the drones Kai had requested, and it was really starting to piss him off. It wasn't anything he couldn't work through on his own, but Trip had a way of seeing things from an entirely different angle that was…refreshing. Okay, it was also helpful, but dangerous. Justin tried not to become too reliant on seeking Trip's advice, but he just- It was one of those nights. A grouping of nights, he guessed. A night that had started a few nights ago with nightmares Justin couldn't remember and ended with productivity he couldn't stop for fear of falling _back_ into the nightmares-

He just really needed to talk to Trip. There was no justification needed, they were friends. Friends could talk to each other at three in the morning.

As demonstrated by _Dustin_.

Annoyance rekindled, the Turbo ranger took to his keyboard with renewed vigor, working out a kink in his neck with a rough twist of his head as he tried to coherently vent his frustrations.

**To: C.****Watanabe **

**Subject: Put Dustin to bed**

_Cam,_

_Get your spazzy boyfriend to leave Trip alone, it's too damn early in the morning to be gossiping_.

_-Justin_

There. It was short, sweet, and to the point. Could probably do with a little more good will and tact, but Justin was going on three days without sleep, so his thinking processes were slightly compromised.

He sent the email and waited, reaching out for the stress ball lying innocently next to the canister of pens and pencils, and tossed it into the air. He wouldn't have to wait long. If Dustin was awake, Cam had to be awake, and if Cam was awake, his Cyber-duplicate was programmed to inform him of any emails from Justin as soon as they arrived (the tech's response times were too quick for there to be any other logical conclusion).

It wasn't long before his computer chimed with Cam's response. Justin leapt for the keyboard, ignoring the stress ball as it rolled to the floor, off towards a pile of miscellaneous junk parts.

**Subject: RE: Put Dustin to bed**

**From: Cameron Watanabe **

**To: **

_I'm certain there was a 'please' in there that you accidentally deleted. A byproduct from years of rushing procedure, I'm sure. Deviations in civility aside, Dustin was not the one to initiate contact. Perhaps you could educate your boyfriend on appropriate hours of communication for the future, to protect the sanctity of your early morning rendezvous._

_-Cam_

Justin sputtered for a second; face heating up as he processed Cam's words. They essentially came down to _'I'm not happy about being awake either'_ and _'quit your bitchin' _in Cam's flowery, proper way, but that wasn't the part Justin focused on.

**To: C.****Watanabe **

**Subject: You're crazy**

_We're not dating, jackass. _

_If you want to sleep, just tell Trip to call back or something._

_-Justin_

Due to the brevity of his email, he knew it wouldn't take long for Cam to reply. He wasn't disappointed.

**Subject: I'm quite sane, thank you**

**From: Cameron Watanabe **

**To: **

_I will bypass the expected response of 'could have fooled me' to spare your admittedly fragile ego. Contrary to my teammates' predispositions, I prefer not to meddle with the love lives of others. Seek comfort in whatever denial you can, if it helps you cope. As far as I am concerned, Trip is his own individual. If it is his preference to engage with conversation in the early hours of the morning, then that is to be respected, especially if Dustin has willingly agreed to participate._

_Now, if all of your concerns have been suitably addressed, I request that you cease emailing me. Some of us have work to do._

_Goodnight,_

_-Cam_

Justin stared at the words. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. He glanced to the floor, to where his stress ball taunted him, far too many feet away for him to consider retrieving it. Then he turned back to the screen.

Oh. It was _on_.

**To: C.****Watanabe **

**Subject: I'm pretty sure you're crazy-pants**

_WE ARE NOT DATING. I am not attracted to Trip, nor am I in denial about being attracted to Trip, because I AM NOT GAY._

_You think you're so damn high and mighty because you're in a relationship, but Tori told me it took you __**months**__ to get your damn act together and realize you liked Dustin. Do not project your issues onto __**me**__ Watanabe, I'm actually in touch with reality. _

_NOT goodnight,_

_-Justin_

Justin sent the email with a vicious jab of his mouse and waited, waited eagerly. Cam wouldn't resist. Justin liked the green ranger, but that didn't make him ignorant of the other tech's flaws. Cam loved a good soapbox just as much as any other person, and if he really felt that he was in the right he would preach his point all day.

The act of arguing with Cam didn't surprise Justin- it was something they did on a fairly regular basis, Justin was willing to say it played a considerable part in the foundation of their friendship – but the subject of their argument, this time, threw Justin. It was either that, or the forty eight hours of constant consciousness working against him, but Justin wasn't really willing to address that right now.

His email alert chimed a few minutes later, and Justin bypassed worrying about the _why_ in favor of reading.

**Subject: Feeling defensive, are we?**

**From: Cameron Watanabe **

**To: **

_Based on time of contact, level of irritability, and amount of thought illustrated in your prose; I am going to assume that this delightful transcript is the result of a period of extended vigilance. As such, I am willing to proffer a bit of leniency at this particular time._

_It is no one's place to impose their own perceptions of attraction onto you, however, there is a great deal of difference between forcing others into the same sexual orientation as yourself and being blind to what is in front of you. A sign can only be so bold; a noise can only be so blaring, so obnoxiously __**present**__, before you stop ignoring it._

_Whether you are gay or not is of little relevance, because whether you find the male populous as a whole attractive or not, it has no relation to whether you find __**Trip**__ attractive._

_I believe as an individual of moderate intelligence that you can separate the primal from the intellectual, separate centuries of conditions for appreciation of the mind._

_And if you cannot, stop checking out his ass._

_-Cam_

It took Justin a few seconds to remember to keep breathing.

It took him considerably less time to start typing.

**To: C.****Watanabe **

**Subject: Feeling moronic, are we?**

_I will bypass the expected response of 'I do not check out his you-know-what' to spare your admittedly fragile __**face**__ from the fist-bludgeoning I am going to deliver unto it the next time I see you. _

_You know what? I'm done. I'm not having this conversation with you, because it's pointless. Of __**course**__ it would matter that I'm not gay when it comes to questioning my attraction to Trip, because __**Trip's**__ a guy. It doesn't matter how sparkling his personality is, if that basic requirement isn't met, then how can there be anything greater than that in the first place?_

_-Justin_

He sent the email before he could think about it, just like he had typed it before he could really comprehend the stress and anxieties and frustrations he had been dealing with over the past few days.

How had they even started talking about this? Why was he even talking about it, for that matter? Why was he humoring this?

Hell, for all Justin knew this could be a hallucination brought on by too much caffeine, it was the only thing he could think of that explained why he needed Cam's understanding so badly. Maybe it was because, as another young technical genius, Cam _should_ understand. And if Justin could get his approval, his support, maybe that meant he was doing okay.

But how he was doing okay, and with what, Justin didn't know. He really didn't know anymore. He didn't even know why he was arguing.

The truth was, Justin didn't dwell on sexual attraction all that much. He had figured high school had just messed him up. At a time in your life where you're supposed to enduring the trial of puberty, Justin had been too young and too smart and too out of anyone's social circle to be considered as an option. Or for him to even consider others as an option. He had always been too busy studying, learning, working to do more. And when he stopped being a ranger- or, a ranger with a team - it had only gotten worse, because now he had something _else_ that could distract him, that he could study, learn, understand.

There had never really been room for others in that equation, and by the time he had ever started considering it, there had been Trip.

If Justin was honest, the only other person he had ever pictured himself being married to was Trip. Mostly, because he knew the green ranger wouldn't drive him crazy. Or, at least, drive him the good kind of crazy. Justin had learned the distinct variations over his time as a ranger.

Still, all of that stuff had just been idle fantasy, a trivial contemplation to pass the time.

The computer chimed, and Justin opened the email with a swallow, fighting down the muddled feelings of conflict and weariness.

**Subject: **_**blank**_

**From: Cameron Watanabe **

**To: **

_My only advice is to do what makes you happy Justin._

_So, I must ask: What makes you happy?_

_-Cam_

Freakin' passive-aggressive- of course Cam would turn it around on him. He probably didn't think Justin was worth a full academic debate just because he had been awake a few days. The green ranger was obviously just trying to throw Justin off his game. He didn't know- he didn't have a proper answer so he-

Justin could feel his eyes warm up, watering at the sudden lump in his throat. His hand curled into a fist against his desk as he considered the screen, grasping for an answer.

What made him happy?

Not this. Not…not this. He wished Trip would-

"_Hey."_

Justin startled, whipping towards his other monitor- the one hooked up to his Time Force equipment- hard enough that he could feel his jaw rattle.

There, looking just as innocently wide-eyed and perky as always, was Trip, smiling that same stupidly wide smile.

"_Sorry about that," _the Xybrian apologized, giving Justin sad eyes. _"I was talking to Dustin. But I'm here now!"_ He frowned, then squinted at the screen, leaning forward in a slow inspection. _"Darn_," he said eventually, leaning back in his chair. _"I'm gonna have to look at your camera too_. _Maybe it's my side of the connection that's messed up._." He shrugged, but before Justin could ask what he was talking about, Trip was back up and running. _"You look terrible Justin, are you okay?"_

And something in that, Justin wasn't sure what, whether it was the exhaustion or the argument or just coming off of the sugar rush of six Cokes- but Justin felt a tremendous amount of relief at just…seeing Trip. He was there, he was fine there wasn't- there wasn't anything from any nightmares that could- that would do anything to him. It was stupid to think otherwise.

After Trip's concerned eyes got a little too intense, Justin realized he had yet to answer the other tech. He coughed, hiding his face behind his hands for a moment, then nodded. "I'm fine Trip, I just…" he swallowed. "I wanted to run something by you, real quick. But could you give me a moment? I just have to…" he motioned towards the computer. "You know."

"_Go for it_," Trip said, smiling again. Maybe he was relieved too.

Justin didn't look too much into it. He turned back towards the computer, and typed Cam one final email.

**To: C.****Watanabe **

**Subject: RE: **_**blank**_

_Thanks, Cam._

A few minutes later, after Trip had babbled his assurances that he was _definitely_ going to make it to the reunion, and chatted on happily over Justin's progress with the drones, mentioned some new metal alloy he was working on, along with a few home remedies Katie had to help with sleeping, Justin's computer chimed again.

He didn't have to open it to know what it said.

**Subject: You're welcome, Justin**

**From: Cameron Watanabe **

**To: **

_But if you mention this to anyone I will literally destroy your networks until they are shriveling husks of their former selves. _

_I mean it._

_-Cam_.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Endnotes:<p>

No seriously, he means it.

Okay, so I might have made Cam a bit of an asshole, but to be fair, his snuggle buddy is up gossiping at three in the morning and he _really_ just wants to be in bed. He normally has his polite-pants on, promise.

Until next time :D


	5. Alex and Lucas - Acquaintances

Chapter 5

_I Am Not A Robot –_ Alex and Lucas: Acquaintances

Warnings: The vaguest allusion to one-sided boy/boy relationships, Drunkenness, and breach of personal boundaries. Features Alex and Lucas of Time Force (or, for those confused, Brown-haired Wes and Lucas).

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>There had been plans, Alex remembered, solid plans for his evening's schedule. To some, they might not seem particularly fancy, but for him they had been adequate and, more importantly, required urgent attention.<p>

Unfortunately, one brief call from an old Academy acquaintance at the Collections Facility had swiftly ruined that.

Alex did not bother driving Lucas back to his own apartment, not with the other man as incapacitated as he was. The blue ranger had seemed fine earlier in the evening, but apparently making good on his promise to enjoy their time off had taken more out of him than originally intended. His common sense, for example, or basic decency, or understanding of his tolerance for alcohol or his previous respect for personal boundaries which he was now in total favor of ignoring as he sprawled across Alex's side, as though he belonged there.

Drunk-Lucas was a new experience for Alex, but it was not one the brunette had particularly desired to encounter. Fate, it would seem, had stripped that choice from him.

"You're drunk," Alex pointed out. It wasn't the first time had indicated this particular fact, but he felt that it needed to be repeated. Forever.

"I'm not…drunk," Lucas slurred, his head listing to the side as Alex dragged him up the stairs to his own apartment. "I'm _very_ drunk."

"That's not better," Alex said tersely. Though he supposed he could appreciate the honesty, even if it was less of a choice and more of a byproduct of what Lucas had ingested. With a sigh, Alex readjusted his hold on Lucas, firmly latching onto the arm around his shoulder with one hand and wrapping the other arm around the blue ranger's waist. They had made it to the right floor, now Alex just had to manhandle Lucas down the hall without waking any of his neighbors.

"You know, you-" Lucas hiccupped, smiling at action in a contented kind of way. Alex took the opportunity for silence as it was and dragged the blue ranger down the hall. "Yerr not…happy," Lucas said this like it was a discovery, a slow burn as he studied the side of Alex's face. "Nope," he declared, shoving his cold nose into the base of Alex's neck. It was uncomfortable. "Not happy."

Now that they were standing still outside of Alex's door, Lucas had decided he was completely done with supporting his own weight. With a dejected sigh, he wrapped both of his arms around Alex's waist and _leaned_, nearly taking them both down as Alex finished swiping his key card.

He tried, but failed, and Alex got him into the apartment with the trained efficiency of a veteran Time Force agent. With a few quick strides, he dumped Lucas on his couch and turned to get some water from the kitchen. Dehydration would be the least of Lucas' worries tomorrow, but Alex didn't keep the kind of medication necessary for dealing with hangovers, so it was the only thing he could offer Lucas at this moment.

A hand grabbing onto his pant-leg stopped him before he could get that far.

"Why won't you go?" Lucas asked, staring up at Alex pitifully. He had one arm draped across his face to block out the stark lighting, but he looked up at Alex through the shadows, imploring. "Everyone _else_ is going."

Alex considered his options. He could break the very weak grip Lucas had on his pants, he could force the blue ranger to drink the water, then lower the lights and let him sleep the worst of the hangover away. Alex considered leaving to pick up pain medication for the morning, the reports he had waiting for review on his desk, and the fact that any conversation they had Lucas certainly would not remember in the morning. At most, it would be a hazy imprint, and at least, a complete waste of time. If Alex wanted to be most effective, he would dim the lights and leave Lucas to tomorrow's fate; Alex had duties to attend to, Lucas would understand. They weren't even really friends anyway.

Leaving was the obvious choice.

Instead, Alex sat on the edge of the couch near Lucas' waist, where the blue ranger had left just enough room for him. It probably hadn't been intentional.

"I didn't work with your team Lucas," Alex explained quietly, the same reasoning he had used on Trip. "Wes did. And aside from that, I believe it would be…odd, for him. Uncomfortable."

There was some shifting on the couch, and when Alex looked down Lucas had rolled onto his side so that he was facing out, curled around the red Time Force ranger. "That's _dumb_," Lucas complained. "You're a ranger. It's a…Ranger-"

"I know what it is," Alex interrupted coolly. He wasn't going to sit around and be lectured by a drunk man.

"Then you should go," Lucas pressed. He brought his arm down, squinting at the sudden onslaught of light, and reached out for Alex. Eventually his hand landed near the brunette's hip. "You should…they should _know_ you. Stop hiding."

"I'm not hiding." Alex frowned, and contemplated moving Lucas' hand.

He didn't, but he contemplated it, and wondered why it was there in the first place.

Alcohol, of course. It was a stupid question.

A bitter laugh erupted from Lucas- small, but distinct. "You're _best_ at hiding," Lucas complained. His grip tightened against Alex's hip. "That's what you do. Did. You _hide_." He frowned, and looked up at Alex. "Why do you do that?"

It was possible for there to be coherency behind the queries. Possible that these were some deep-seated troubles that Lucas could only manage to address with the aid of 'liquid courage'.

But more likely, they were idle curiosities, whims that had struck the blue ranger now, when he was out of sorts.

What did Alex owe Lucas, for him to consider giving these drunken rambles any kind of attention or serious consideration?

"Why are you drunk Lucas?" Alex kept his eyes locked on the other ranger's, asking the question that had plagued him since he had received the call.

The blue ranger's frown deepened, clearly displeased. "You won't _come_," Lucas complained.

Alex rolled his eyes. That was hardly a reason for Lucas to resort to such an extreme. There had to be something else, something he probably didn't remember.

"You won't come, and-" Lucas squinted his eyes. "You know we're friends, right?"

Alex blinked, but said nothing. Drunken rambles.

It was an odd turn; Alex hadn't considered Lucas to be overly concerned with-

"You don't _know-_" Lucas moaned, throwing his arm back over his eyes dramatically.

The absence of Lucas' grip was noted, but not mourned. It wasn't - it hadn't been, and wouldn't be - anything worth considering.

"We're friends," Alex offered. They weren't, but if it made Lucas feel better for the moment, Alex was willing to lie. It wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Lying," Lucas grumbled. He was frowning, shifting as though he were trying to sit up again. Alex pushed him back down before he could disorient himself, and Lucas latched onto his hand, grip surprisingly strong. "You're lying," Lucas accused, his eyes narrowing. He had shifted so that he was on his back again, with Alex half hunched over him. His other hand moved to the arm Alex had moved to brace himself. "You're lying and…" Lucas swallowed.

At this range, Alex could smell the alcohol clearly. His inexperience with such beverages left him ignorant as to the particular cocktails the blue ranger had partaken of, but the base scent he could recognize. What he could not recognize, or ever understand, was the tired kind of desperation in Lucas' eyes.

Lucas looked down at his hands, then slowly let go. "You don't like it when I touch you."

Alex, who still had one hand braced against Lucas' chest, considered this.

A few seconds later, he deduced that he had not misheard the other ranger.

"I'm sorry," Lucas mumbled, rolling his head to the side. He didn't mention anything about Alex's hand - his touch - didn't say anything about their proximity or why he was drunk at three in the morning, or why he had insisted that Alex was the only person capable of picking him up.

He was drunk. Drunk brains did not run on logic, they ran on whim, on things as insubstantial as their fuel, on half-coherent fancies and emptiness.

It didn't mean anything.

"Apology accepted," Alex said after a short pause.

He hadn't taken his hand off Lucas' chest.

The other ranger didn't say anything; he kept his gaze fixed to the side. Eventually, he drew his arm back over his eyes, and Alex took that as his cue to leave.

He set out a glass of water, dimmed the lights, and retreated to his study, back to his duties, back to his responsibilities.

Lucas wouldn't remember anything in the morning.

Perhaps Alex should emulate that strategy.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Endnotes:<p>

Alex and Lucas' exchange was originally supposed to be over data pads (tablet kind of deal), but then I was struck with the idea of _drunk Lucas_, and decided I could kind of bend the prompt of electric communication for them.

For those of you who are a little lost, Alex is Wes' descendent from the year 3000, and the original red Time Force Ranger. He's played by the same actor who played Wes (but you know, with brown hair, so the producers have declared him totally different) and has a tragic-ish side story for the season. Bottom line, he helped the rangers out a couple times and was kind of a dick, which automatically makes him interesting and in need of explanation because there's being a dick, and then being an _impressive_ amount of dick. It was astounding.

Also, Merry Christmas Eve! I'll be posting again tomorrow, but here's a little taste to hold you over 'till then.

Until next time :D


	6. Blake and Tori - Texts

Chapter 6

_As It Seems –_ Blake and Tori: Texts

Warnings: References to past child abuse, neglect, nightmares, and relationship doubt. Heavily features Blake/Tori, with references to Dustin/Cam, and Shane/Hunter.

For those of you unfamiliar with the characters from last chapter, I thought I would also post a little something with the two members of team Ninja Storm we have yet to see. A little fluffy goodness for the holidays :D

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>It was late.<p>

Or early, Blake guessed, would be an accurate description as well. Hunter would have picked the other side just to be contrary, and Tori-

Blake missed her. Them. He missed all of them, really. He was going into his second year of riding with Factory Blue, something he still struggled to wrap his mind around sometimes. He was getting paid to ride, to _race_, to cut corners and fly through the mud and dirt, to bust his way into the big leagues. Blake had already started catching the eye of some of the long time pros, and if he kept this pace up, he might be able to worm his way into the AMA Supercross Championship. Conner was always ragging on him about changing to racing bicycles so that Blake could have a shot at the Olympics, but as far as Blake was concerned he was exactly where he needed to be.

Even if that where did not exactly include _who_ he wanted to be with.

He talked with Tori every chance he had. Cam had hooked them both up with a set of decent webcams before Tori had gone off to school, but with classes and racing and training…it was hard, sometimes, to get a free moment. Blake always saw her during summer vacation and winter break, but the months between made those points of refuge seem so damn far apart.

He loved her, time and distance would never change that. It didn't make Blake worry any less that maybe Tori might, you know, find some better college guy out there. Some dude without the emotional baggage of losing two families, who hadn't attempted to murder someone she cared about, who hadn't brutally betrayed her in a very-

Okay, that had all been laid to rest a long time ago, but Blake still worried. Even if he knew that look Tori got, that one look that was all fondness and contentedness…she only got it when she was looking at him. It was _only_ for him, and Blake knew he had a look that was eight times more dopey and lovestruck that he had reserved especially for her (Dustin had caught it on camera once, but had solemnly agreed to keep the moment between them, free from Hunter's mocking hands).

Blake missed Tori with an ache that could not be described, that he barely endured. It was how he had been able to determine the window for his racing career. College, then law school, and then Tori would probably take up Wes' offer of employment at Bio Labs as a public liaison. They had talked about it in the few nights leading up to their initial separation. Tori was going to go into politics someday. Tori was going to lay the groundwork of not only American, but international protocol when dealing with ranger and alien threats. She was going to be an ambassador, a judge, a senator.

And meanwhile, Blake was going to be a guy who was good at fixing bikes.

Not exactly a world-changing life skill.

They had meetings about that stuff, sometimes. He and Dustin and Hunter, when they were feeling particularly mopey. It was hard to date these people with these _gigantic_ potentials to change the world someday. All Blake was really good at was bikes and hitting things. Or - as Hunter would boast - hitting things _well_. Dustin would add in that he made a mean chicken frittata (and he did, but that was really beside the point).

Tori would have kicked their collective asses if she ever heard any of it; same went for Shane and Cam. They would have argued differently, that they were more than their accumulated skills, but it was hard to see that sometimes. Especially when they started playing the comparison game. It wasn't a fight any of them won, and it wasn't an exercise that helped, but sometimes- well, sometimes, it was nice to know you weren't the only person in over your head.

_Damn_, this was a really depressing chain of thought. Blake wished he could get some freaking sleep already.

The trailer Cam had helped him suit up was nice – it cleanly separated the living quarters from his workspace, with plenty of room for his bike – but there were moments when Blake was overwhelmed with how strongly _not-home_ it felt. It brought back old memories of trailer parks and cinderblocks, of hiding in drain pipes and holding his breath to keep still, terrified of some monster he couldn't even remember anymore.

What he had now was nothing like then- there were pictures, a security system, he was _safe_ – but when the loneliness and insecurity and uncertainty attacked all at once, it was hard just to swallow, let alone fall asleep.

He wished he could call Tori. It was late, she might still be up studying, but Blake didn't want to risk it. Tori was efficient, probably had a schedule that kept her from pulling too many late nights. Blake was willing to bet anything she had gotten into bed at eleven o'clock _exactly_, wearing a pale blue tank top that matched her pajama pants, wrapped in that quilt monstrosity that Dustin and Trip had tag teamed, that Dana had carefully repaired. He wondered if the amount of pillows had increased since his last visit, if her sisters had snuck just a _few_ more in, if her mother had changed out the lace curtains for something 'new', something 'fresh'.

Shane would be back in Blue Bay Harbor already; trapped in Hunter's death-grip, so Tori's couch would be empty, but what about the rest of it? Had her roommates already left for the break? Blake couldn't remember, maybe she hadn't told him.

He couldn't call her, but Blake found his phone clutched in his hand anyway, its screen casting a pale blue glow across his features.

Blake's thumb hovered over the call button, Tori's number highlighted on the screen. He wanted to hear her voice again – needed, in a way he could not describe – the calm that came from hearing that warmth, that fondness, directed at him.

But it was late.

With a sigh, Blake tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and tried to burrow back under his covers. Most of the stuff in the trailer was fastened down in some way, but not welded. It was secure without being definite because it had been designed by Cam, who understood the need for multi-function, understood that some days you needed an open layout and others you needed a fortress. He offered Blake the opportunity and asked for nothing in return, but as great of a genius Cam was, Blake couldn't help but feel that the entire design had a touch of Tori in it.

The efficiency and engineering was purely Cam. The aesthetic feel of things, that was Tori. Calming but strong. Homey, despite being a literal metal can that shared space with his racing bike. He would build his way up, Blake knew. One day he would have a separate space for his bike, one day he'd be paid the big bucks for a trailer that was required to do nothing more than house him – not his shop – just him. Blake hoped to get there before Tori graduated law school.

The future was terrifying.

They – he and Hunter – had been lost after the defeat of Lothor. Everything they had trained for, everything that had driven them, it had finally come to a close. The man who had taken their parent's lives was _gone_ – and even after that freak accident where he came _back_ (Blake wouldn't lie, there had been nightmares, plenty of nightmares filling the weeks after _that_ travesty), they had smacked him down, just as they had before.

And just as they had before, Blake and Hunter were left without a purpose again.

Hunter had training, and Blake had his racing – his contract with Factory Blue – but compared to _saving the world_, to getting justice for their parent's, it paled in comparison horribly. Nothing seemed to matter as much.

Was this what they were supposed to do? Just, be _normal_?

Blake didn't think he could ever be normal. Scratch that- he _couldn't_ be normal, he had spent too many years faking it to have a chance of making it real.

Blake loved riding, but it wasn't the same. It didn't give him that same drive that battling Lothor had. Before it had been freedom, a shining light in the seriousness of their mission. It was a chance to escape within something he excelled, and while he had always been serious about it…

Okay, so Blake hadn't really been able to think of a world beyond Lothor. Theoretically sure, he had it planned out. It was the execution that was failing him, and it frustrated Blake to no end.

This was _it_. He had the dream job, the dream girl, he had a family, he had closure, he had everything he had wanted when he was just a terrified six year old hiding under his bed, hoping his dad- his birth dad (at least, Blake thought that's who he was) – wouldn't find him. This was the utopia he had escaped to in his head, where he had shelter and people who gave a darn, who didn't hit, who didn't terrify him, who he didn't have to continuously lie to in order to keep them happy. Who he didn't have to lie to so that he could be _safe_.

Now Blake was just himself. That wasn't bad. He was quite likeable, according to Tori. To Shane. Dustin. Cam. The only difference now was that he didn't have a crusade anymore, and that wasn't too bad either. It wasn't healthy, to have that kind of thing driving you.

(But if that was true, Blake never wanted to be healthy, because then he didn't really feel alive).

Maybe he was depressed or something?

He missed Tori.

Blake could call Hunter. His brother would spend the first ten minutes complaining, of course, of swearing to make Blake's life a living hell for ever daring to call at such a horribly atrocious hour, but then he would listen. He always did.

Thing was, Blake didn't exactly know what to say.

It was a first for him.

He stared at the phone again, considering it, turning over the possibilities in his head. Blake could call Dustin. Dustin would do all the talking _for_ him. He had a sixth sense about when you needed those kinds of things, but then word would get back to Cam and Cam would tell Shane because he was the leader and then Hunter would know, and Hunter had his own amount of brooding to deal with that didn't include Blake's inability to describe a feeling he didn't understand in the first place.

He wished he could call Tori.

The phone solved his dilemma for him.

Or, more accurately, he supposed the person on the other side of the state solved it. She always did have the best timing.

His cell vibrated against the nightstand, switched to silent in the pitiful hope that real sleep could be achieved. Blake had it snatched from the table and cradled in his palms before the second buzz, squinting down at the screen, bright in the otherwise shadowy room.

**Time 3:43 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_You asleep?_

Blake smiled down at the text, imagining Tori's warm voice reading out the question.

The phone buzzed again while he contemplated his response.

**Time 3:44 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Of course you're asleep_

**Time 3:44 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Because if you __**weren't**__ asleep, you'd be awake, and gentlemen who have to be at the track at 7 AM would never be as foolish as to be awake at almost four in the morning._

Blake smiled; taking the admonishment with the fondness it was intended.

**Time 3:46 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I miss you_

**Time 3:46 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I miss you and it's stupid late and I'm tired of studying. So when you find this tomorrow remember that you __**agreed**__ to date a person who babbles to people's phones when they're asleep._

Blake wondered how much coffee she had mainlined.

**Time 3:48 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Shut up_

**Time 3:49 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Shut up, I did not drink any coffee. You know I hate coffee._

She didn't though.

**Time 3:51 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Okay. So my relationship to coffee is more of a timid partnership regretfully indulged in during exam times but- shut up Blake, __**I know**__ you're laughing!_

Blake choked on a few chuckles, shoving the heel of his palm against his mouth to stifle the outpour of amusement. She became so much like Dustin whenever she was loopy, it was amazing.

**Time 3:51 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I'm not Dustin. I'm not. I'm just tired, and up to __**hear**__ with stupid things I need to memorize and I miss you_.

Blake smiled, his thumb tracing the screen over her words. He could imagine her, half asleep, sprawled across her desk, stubbornly clinging to consciousness as she got everything in order. Blake kept telling her to cut back, but _no_, Tori was going to do everything. She was going to train with everyone and talk with every ranger and volunteer with every charity in every city _ever_, and she openly scoffed at anyone who suggested it couldn't be managed. During times like this, usually Shane could pull her away from her work and sit on her (literally, Blake had pictures), forcing Tori into an evening of crappy movie marathoning or to get some sunshine or to just freakin' _sleep_ already.

Blake had come to terms with the fact that Shane was sharing a bed with his girlfriend more often then he got to nowadays. That was not to say he coped with this in a mature way. He found comfort in rubbing this fact in Hunter's face, because the same was true for him _too_, and if Blake didn't point it out first then Hunter would use it as his own ammo, and he couldn't have _that_ now, could he?

With a small grin, Blake activated the keyboard, typing a response.

**Time 3:52 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I miss_ _you too_

It took about five seconds before there was a reply

**Time 3:52 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_BLAKE_

So witty.

**Time 3:53 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_BLAKE, you should be SLEEPING_

Yeah, he should be. Then again, so should she. He didn't point this out though.

**Time 3:53 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_You're so eloquent at three in the morning._

He grinned, thinking about that face he knew she'd make, the one that was annoyed and put off and _'oh no he __**didn't**_'.

Trip and Tori had done a face-off with those expressions one time, it had been- Blake had no words for the true majesty of that event. Hunter had sulked for weeks because he missed it.

Blake's phone buzzed, bringing him back to the present.

**Time 3:54 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_And __**you're**__ awfully __**awake**__ at three in the morning_

**Time 3:54 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Almost four._

**Time 3:54 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_You're not helping your case_

**Time 3:55 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I didn't know I needed too_

It was nothing- small talk. Late night talk. But it was also enough, pathetically enough to ease that tension that seemed to settle in the middle of his chest, whenever the apathy and the - what was it Dana had called it for veteran rangers? – despondency seemed to overwhelm him. It was always late at night, or early in the morning, he guessed. When there wasn't anything to occupy him.

Blake's phone buzzed, bringing a much-needed distraction.

The words though- they weren't exactly what he had been expecting.

**Time 3:57 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I miss it too_

Blake paused, considered this.

She knew him too well. That should be terrifying, a part of him, even now, wanted to reject this, wanted to cut off ties so that he could preserve himself. He wouldn't, but the urge had been with Blake for such a long time, had been ingrained in him as a survival instinct- it was just hard, sometimes. It was hard to fight your nature. Or, conditioning, whatever. That was a distinction Dana had stressed during their sessions. Our nature is ingrained in biology, but people were _conditioned_ to-

The phone buzzed.

**Time 3:59 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Don't do this_

Blake began to type. '_Do wha-'_

Tori responded before he could send the text.

**Time 3:59 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Don't fake it_

Blake swallowed. He hadn't thought he'd been- but Tori would know, wouldn't she? Tori would know. She was viciously competent that way. It was one of the things that had appealed to Blake, in the beginning. Her directness. It wasn't something he could emulate, but he had admired it. Maybe he had thought it was a little stupid, had envied her for the ability to do it with such ease, but even under the resentment and critical inspections, he had begrudgingly envied Tori.

That probably wasn't the best way to start a relationship, it was one of the reasons Blake had discounted his attraction to her for such a long time, but it had been there.

Tori probably knew that too.

And they were – bless them – considered the _healthy_ relationship in Team Ninja Storm. Perception was a screw-y thing.

On impulse, Blake stopped the deflections, stopped any pretense of being happy in the early morning.

**Time 4:02 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Is it supposed to be like this?_ _Are we supposed to feel empty?_

"_It's natural,"_ they had said. _"We all feel it, it's natural. A reasonable response_."

Blake didn't want _natural_, he wanted- he wanted _right_. He wanted to feel whole again. Driven again.

**Time 4:04 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_We still have our suits_. _Why can't we fight?_

**Time 4:04 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_They had their suits too_

She didn't elaborate who 'they' were, she didn't need to.

**Time 4:04 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Each team is geared towards a specific enemy to meet the current threat. As rangers, we cannot escalate a battle_

**Time 4:05 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I know that_

They hadn't, when they were fighting, but after the first reunion- the Doompot fiasco, the original team had explained it. Why they didn't all just pile on a threat with every ranger they had.

**Time 4:05 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_We have to match force for force, we're defensive, I get it Tori_

He didn't like it, but he understood it, intellectually.

The morpher wrapped around his wrist however- that weight, that warmth, that connection to a pulsing lifeforce he could barely comprehend - that he didn't understand. Why would they still have their morphers if they couldn't _use_ them?

**Time 4:06 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_They think it's going to get worse_

What? Who thought- but Tori was one step ahead of him, answering the question he hadn't voiced.

**Time 4:07 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Billy, Andros, Mike – Earth's getting more noticed now. They think one day there __**will**__ be a threat that requires all of us to fight_. _They think we might be needed_

A horrific thought.

The disturbed part of Blake sort of looked forward to it. He forced it down, buried it with anxieties of _'what if I'm like __**them?**__'_ and _'what if it's always like this?'_ and moved on.

**Time 4:08 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I miss you_

He could just call her. She was awake, he was awake; they could call.

They just didn't.

Texting was a form of communication that enforced succinct interchanges. It allowed for time to consider, time to regroup, and could potentially be put off entirely, picked up at a later date.

Texting worked when you were pulling the pieces of yourself back together, because it was efficient. It was too much work to hide or to dodge questions.

Tori knew that.

**Time 4:09 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I miss you too_. _I miss you with everything that I am_.

**Time 4:09 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Poetic_

He hadn't written _'me too'_, though if he had, he would have meant it.

**Time 4:10 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_What can I say? You're dating the best :)_

Blake smiled.

**Time 4:10 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I am, aren't I?_

He loved her. It was a strange thought. He had assumed for a long time that he didn't really, like, deserve that kind of thing. It was never a conscious thought – who could form that opinion when they're six? – but it was there, as a feeling. There had had to be something wrong with him. There _had_ to be, and Hunter-

Blake always took the brunt of it, because Hunter never pretended. There were times when Blake had resented his brother for that, because then Blake had to lie twice as much, dredge up more charisma to make up for his brother's rough edges, even if his were just as ragged, just as bad. Blake had pretended until even he had believed the lie. Hunter had kept him grounded, and Tori…

She had pulled him apart. She had taken away all the masks, every act, every smile Blake didn't mean, every fast one he tried to pull. She saw him for what he was.

She loved him.

A terrifying thing.

As though she could read into the silence, knew every mental tirade Blake had made from point A to point B, Tori broke back into the silence of the night.

**Time 4:11 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I have masks too, you know_.

He did. He knew. She had been acting like a half-coherent Dustin just ten minutes ago.

For Tori though, it was more like a mindset. She had been sincere in her attempts at humor, one hundred percent.

And now…

**Time 4:12 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I'll see you soon, Tori_.

That reunion couldn't come soon enough.

**Time 4:12 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_I love you_.

Her reply was automatic.

**Time 4:12 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_I love you too_. _Every day, in every way_.

Blake laughed.

**Time 4:13 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Had to end it with a corny pep talk, didn't you?_

**Time 4:13 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Shut up. I really have been studying all night_

But she stayed up for him. She stayed awake; she had wanted to, she had wanted to be there to help. To talk.

**Time 4:14 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Go to bed Tor._

His phone buzzed a few seconds later

**Time 4:14 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_YOU FIRST_

Well then, he couldn't really argue with that now, could he?

**Time 4:15 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Goodnight Tor_

He wrote it, feeling, for the first time that night, like he might actually be able to get some sleep.

**Time 4:15 AM Today**

**From: Blake**

_Be careful_.

'_Don't burn yourself out_', he wanted to say. '_Don't do too much, please. I know I can't stop you, but please, __please__, be careful_.'

**Time 4:15 AM Today**

**From: Tori**

_Goodnight Blake :D_

He could picture her smile, sleepy and fond. It was for him.

The one playing on his lips, small but confident, that was especially for her.

Every day, in every way.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Endnotes:<p>

The 'Doompot' fiasco is a reference to my story 'Filled With Good Works'. The basic gist of things is that all the active ranger teams up through Ninja Storm ended up having a ridiculously huge battle in Silver Hills. There was Shenanigans. It was a thing.

I sincerely hope that has fulfilled your fluffy/angsty/warm/fuzzie quotient for the day :)

Here's to all you folks that enjoy a good Blake/Tori romance. Merry Christmas!

Until next time :D


	7. Rocky and Aisha - Telephone

Chapter 7

_Home –_ Rocky and Aisha: Telephone

Warnings: References to Rocky/Adam.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>"Chica, bonita, querida; how are you doing my dream of dreams?"<p>

"_Good to hear you're the same old flatterer,"_ Aisha laughed, long and warm. It was a good sound. _"Please don't tell me you stayed up until three in the morning just to call me_."

"Of course I didn't," Rocky chirped, grinning into the phone pressed against his ear. "I stayed up to call the light of my life, mi corazón, mi-"

"_Enough, __**enough**_," she laughed, and Rocky's heart sang. Corny, perhaps, but it had been too long. He missed his friend. "_Alright sunshine, tell me why you're calling my side of the world at three in the morning."_

"It's only noon for you, isn't it?" Rocky pointed out with a waggle of his eyebrows. She couldn't see them, but she would hear it. Aisha was always good at that kind of thing.

The following snort confirmed it. "_Nice deflection_," she said appreciatively. Because _someone_ acknowledged his genius. Aside from Adam. Adam was kind of required to. "_Rocky, baby, tell me what's up."_

It was soft and friendly, but it was still an order. Aisha made her requests with a gentleness that could put you in awe, but Rocky knew better than to ever discount their legitimacy. If you had some news to spill that Aisha wanted, she _would_ get it, come hell or high water. Her thirst for gossip and stable inner-team relationships had been a bonding point for her and Kim.

Rocky knew this, had known when he had picked up the phone- it was the entire _point_ of this call – but a small part of him still felt regretful. He was going into battle, a different kind, one that he hated, but he had run out of stalling tactic and it really needed to be said, so…

"So…the reunion's coming up," Rocky began, trying to be casual. He could do casual. Casual _could_ be his middle name.

It wasn't, because his parents liked him, but the metaphor still held up.

Aisha sighed. "_No Rocky_, _you know I can't go_."

Rocky dropped all pretense of the casual-he-actually-wasn't. "Aisha-"

"_No Rocky," _the yellow ranger repeated. "_I can't_."

"Screw _'can't'_," Rocky, abandoning his begging. "Aisha, we miss you. It's been years since you've gone to Africa. What are you hiding from?"

"'_What'?"_ Aisha echoed. "_Or 'who'?"_

Who? Or…_oh_.

It clicked into place slowly for Rocky, a steady, gradual thing, but it got there. He knew with a sudden twist in his heart, with an ache of outpouring sorrow for his friend, his sister.

"Aisha," Rocky whispered. He didn't need to, it was just him in the apartment with Adam out consulting with Bio Labs, but he didn't have the energy for more. "Aisha, _please_. We've got your back, you know we do. Just…come home." He let his head hang against his chest until he could see the scuffed linoleum floor of the kitchen, a cozy small thing he and Adam had decided on together. "The three ninjas, remember?"

"_I remember_," she sounded sad, but Rocky actually couldn't remember when she didn't sound sad nowadays, when the joy she used to inspire lasted beyond just a few insubstantial minutes.

When Aisha had first taken up her post in Africa, Rocky had thought that it had been because her generosity couldn't keep her home anymore, couldn't keep her in California, fighting by Rocky and Adam's side. He had thought that her selflessness, her need to help, had called to her so strongly that she could not possibly consider any other choice at that moment.

Back then, maybe Rocky had been right, but now Rocky realized Aisha had merely seen what the rest of them couldn't.

Nothing lasted forever.

Instead of waiting for the morpher to decide it was done with her, Aisha had walked away. She had chosen her own path.

Even now, with his active Ninjetti morpher, his active Zeo crystals, Rocky was still insanely jealous she had managed to find her own closure. Or, what he had assumed was closure.

In reality, he was almost certain the only thing that kept Aisha in Africa _now_ was the need to run away.

And he was tired of it. _He_ was going to be the stubborn one this time.

"Come _home_ Aisha," Rocky urged, determined, _done_. "We can get you a job at Bio Labs, you can study whatever you want, you don't have to be near _anyone_ you don't want to be but _please_, come home." He swallowed, his eyes moving to the corkboard Adam had hung up by the telephone, a monstrosity of pictures, drawings, and phone numbers of various rangers. In the center was the photo of the Ninja Competition, the one that had brought them to the original ranger team's eye in the first place.

"…_I'll think about it Rocky, okay? I'll think about it."_

It was the most he was going to get for now, but that didn't make Rocky feel any less brokenhearted. "Okay, Aisha," he sighed, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "We love you, okay?"

"_I know,"_ she replied. It was bittersweet, but sincere. _"I love you too, goofball_."

"_Ah_," Rocky grasped at his heart dramatically, rocking back in his chair. "Mi corazón, por que?"

"_Because you're crazy_," Aisha replied cheekily. _"And I love it_."

"Luckily, Adam does too," Rocky shot back, wiggling his eyebrows.

There was no laugh this time, but she was probably just tired. It had to be hot over there, this time of day.

"_Get some sleep Rocky_," Aisha ordered softly. It still left no room for argument, but it was kinder. _"Give Adam my love_."

"I will," Rocky promised.

He would. It never needed to be said, but he would.

He would do anything for family.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Endnotes:<p>

I got nothing. Seriously, nothing.

Until next time.


	8. Kai and Damon - Helmet Radio

Chapter 8

_Starship Ranger –_ Kai and Damon: Helmet Radio

Warnings: References to a troubled past.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Everything's checking out over here Kai, are you picking anything up on your side?"<em>

"Negative," Kai's gaze narrowed down at the monitor in his hand. It supplied the same blank readings as it had on the last few moons. "It's all clear."

Regretfully. They were running out of nearby planets to investigate. The initial data – while alarming – appeared to be an isolated incident produced by his own monitoring equipment. Damon was convinced it was an anomaly, but given the potential for what the data could signify, Kai had not been willing to dismiss it entirely.

An energy signal that immense would be possible of generating enough power to-

Kai had begun searching on his own, scouring Miranoi's moons while the rest of the colony was sleeping; seeking answers for a paranoia he had hoped was misguided. Damon had joined him halfway through his self-assigned mission (it was difficult to give up old habits, difficult to stop the things built into him as easily as breathing). The green ranger had no comments or criticisms. He had come bearing improved equipment, discarding Kai's hobbled-together energy detector into something with real function. (Despite his efforts, Kai's programming would always surpass his mediocre engineering skills, but that was the benefit of Damon, wasn't it?).

They had searched quietly, searching every inch of the surrounding planets with their Jet Jammers, looking for something that was probably a malfunction. An error.

Kai was paranoid, but he had earned that right. He had earned caution and consideration, and he would not bow out, he would not yield just because the possibility of legitimate danger was slim. He had not stayed alive this long by leaving his back exposed.

It was the threats you dismissed that killed you.

Kai was a survivor. To what purpose, he had not really known for a majority of his life. It had merely been the reflex engrained in him, the need to move on, be useful, be whole. There was a difference between living and surviving, and Leo – the team, his _family_ – had taught him that. Slowly, with a demonstration of great patience.

There was a sigh over the comm., a reflexive thing from Damon ringing over his helmet's speakers. _"Kai, I don't think there's anything out here_."

"Not here," Kai confirmed. His helmet readings mirrored that of the detector in his hand, all things normal. "Perhaps elsewhere."

"_Perhaps __**nowhere**__. Man, you know I'm with you until the end of the line, but your satellite probably just shorted out. Let me take a look at it, I can-"_

"No," Kai said it with more force than was necessary – especially for Damon – and forced himself to take a deep breath, holding it in until his heart beat was regulated. "No Damon, I would rather…"

He had built that piece with his own hands, hashed together from the concepts Damon and Kendrix had revealed to him. Kai knew full well that his equipment was not perfect, that it did not always perform as it should. But it was his, _his_ that he had made, and it would be his to fix.

This investigation, this patrol he had created, could very well be the result of pride. That he would rather comb over entire planets than he would allow his teammate – his _friend_ – to look at his equipment.

No, no it could not. Kai would have instigated this search either way. The concern was too great; it was too much a part of him to-

"_I get you man,"_ Damon said quietly. "_I get it, don't worry. It's just- I think the others, you know. They're getting worried."_

Kai knew. He had been studying their behavior – another reflex – he knew that Leo noticed every time Kai left their bed. He knew when the other ranger consciously maintained a slow breathing rate to convince Kai he remained asleep. He understood the worried looks from Maya and Kendrix, the expression of subdued regret in Mike's eyes when he left for Earth early, an emotion that had taken Kai far too long to recognize as sorrow. Sadness that he had to leave his brother alone to Kai and his whims, his quirks, his deficiencies-

"_I'm worried too, Kai_," Damon said quietly. _"Talk to me man, you know I'm here for you_."

"I know." They repeated this, and Kai did not blame them. It had taken a long time for him to feel brave enough to risk believing them. That they cared. That they- that _he_ had some kind of impact on their emotional wellbeing that did not devolve from fear of pain or execution.

Kai was not the best at speaking. There were moments he could find the thread of conversation and ride it, weave through the intricacies through emulation. From what he had observed others doing, how they succeeded, how they had failed. Sometimes, Kai could even manage his own humor, but it wasn't something he could maintain perpetually, not yet. He was not completely human yet.

He was getting there though. Maya was confident.

Kai had enough faith to believe in this confidence.

"I know," Kai repeated. It helped them too, this reiteration. "I need this Damon. I need to know for sure. I need to know we're safe."

"_What if we never find it?"_ Damon asked. _"What if we search all of Miranoi's moons and the nearby planets and we don't find anything? Will you keep looking? Keep searching for that gun hovering over your shoulder?"_

"I won't…" Kai swallowed, but his expression never shifted. He was better than that. He was calm. Not apprehensive. Not worried. He was blank, composed. "I would be done," he concluded.

He had done the math – double checking it surreptitiously through Watanabe and Stewart – if all of the investigated planets came out clean then there was nowhere else to search. Everything else would be too out of reach.

"_Promise?" _Damon asked.

Kai wasn't sure why he bothered. What good were words? Words were easily broken, had no real meaning save what one chose for them. Kai could promise and throw it away in a second, because promises held no real bearing. There was no weight. Kai could search every planet in the galaxy, in the universe and still make this promise right here, right now. It changed nothing.

"I promise," Kai replied.

He would keep it.

He did not know why, but he would keep it.

"_Good_," Damon said. "_Then let's hurry up and get this done. The faster this is over, the faster we can get down to Earth and start breaking the natural laws of science. It'll be awesome."_

Kai allowed himself a smile. "Nothing brings you quite as much joy as shattering the perceived standards of reality, does it Damon?"

"_Guy's gotta have his hobbies, right?"_

He could hear the smile in his voice when Damon said it.

It was good. It-

It was good.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Endnotes:<p>

This ties into chapter one, with Leo's concerns. Just another seed for a future story I may one day get around to writing hopefully/maybe/finger-crossed. If only the other story ideas allow me the opportunity :)

One step at a time, right?

Until next time :D


	9. Wes - Ranger Reunion

Chapter 9

_Here's To Us –_ Wes

Warnings: Shenanigans, references to overindulging in alcohol, boy/boy action, references to boy/boy, girl/girl, and boy/girl relationships, mild brawling, good-natured teasing, and overall silliness. Features (here we go…) Wes/Eric, Rocky/Adam, Justin/Trip, Dustin/Cam, Tori/Blake, Shane/Hunter, Jen/Katie, with allusions to Danny/Max and Carlos/Zhane/Mike.

* * *

><p>-:-:-:-:-:-<p>

* * *

><p>Pandemonium never felt so sweet.<p>

Wes smiled at the chaos erupting around him, taking in the clumps of people as they greeted each other, a variation of hugs, claps, high fives, and handshakes. It was a sea of color: reds, yellows, blues and more, all unified by bright rainbow nametags worn proudly by each ranger. Even if Wes hadn't been one of the planners for this modest shindig, it wouldn't have taken a lot of brain power to determine who was responsible for that choice. Kimberly had subcommittees with subcommittees, but thinking that those nametags could be the handiwork of someone _other_ than Rocky and Dustin was ludicrous. Wes knew it, Kim knew it. Table cloths, lighting, and other decorations had been outsourced to professionals (thankfully), but it was hard to outdo the enthusiasm of those two rangers, especially with Cam backing them up.

It was a fight Wes had eagerly lost.

The menu had been preapproved by Kai, the only refined pallet among them (so claimed by Leo, and no one felt particularly bothered to argue it). There was plenty of comfort food- easy finger sandwiches and mini pizzas (much to the shuddered disgust of the former Turbo rangers- don't ask, really; _don't ask_), kabobs, rolls, buns- any and every carb imaginable. There was also a very thoughtful, if neglected, fruit and vegetable tray that had been supplied by Dana, who was more than happy to glare full-grown saviors of the universe into eating a balanced meal.

Carter, proving that he was smarter than the rest of them, had figured this out early on and cleaned out the strawberries as soon as the reunion had started. Last Wes knew of it, the red Lightspeed ranger was using them as bartering tools to instill good behavior in the other rangers, which was probably working more effectively than it should have been. Props to that guy.

A soccer ball went _whooshing_ past Wes' head, and the blond fought a grin as he recognized the distinct crash of something very expensive being destroyed.

The blond didn't even bother following its trajectory, instead he schooled his expression into something scolding, and glanced over his shoulder. "Connor, Carlos; I told you to keep it _outside_."

The younger ranger in question shrugged sheepishly, eyes wide in an attempt to play innocent. Carlos, on the other hand, didn't even bother with the pretense; too busy laughing at the red Dino ranger, clarifying who was responsible for Wes' broken vase.

Adam, at the very least, had the decency to look apologetic from where he stood behind them.

While Wes looked upon the guilty trio, he could hear Kelsey swoop in behind him, most likely rescuing the prized soccer ball from inevitable confiscation. The yellow Lightspeed ranger exited the house with a mighty battle cry, making Connor turn with a jolt, his bashfulness immediately changing into excitement now that the game was on again.

"Children," Eric grumbled, looking out into the backyard as the impromptu soccer match turned into a real game of two-on-two. "That's all they are, the whole lot of them." In his peripherals, Wes could see Eric angle towards him, a beer bottle dangling casually from one hand. "Why do we do this again?"

"Because it's fun." Wes allowed a sly grin to steal onto his face. He knew Eric would hate it, wasn't entirely comfortable with _this_, with people in general, but for today everything seemed perfect. "Besides," Wes continued, bumping his shoulder against the Quantum ranger's. "You know you love it."

If Wes was looking at him, he knew his boyfriend – yeah, _boyfriend_; imagine that – would be rolling his eyes. Despite the display, Eric didn't protest it, because Wes was _right_.

Yeah, his _boyfriend_ was really just a big softy.

"Heads up!" Tanya cheered, winding her way through the crowd. She had one hand on Chad and another on Jason, both bearing bemused grins as she relentlessly tugged them forward. "I've got two more for karaoke!"

"But I can't _sing_," Jason laughed, aiming hopeful puppy eyes onto the yellow ranger when she turned to look at him.

Kira, who was acting as Tanya's partner-in-crime for karaoke room recruitment, merely shrugged, and continued pushing the two taller rangers along. "We give points for enthusiasm. And besides, if we can survive Hunter's rendition of '_My Heart Will Go On'_, we're pretty much prepared for anything."

"_Ugh_." Eric shuddered at the memory. "That reminds me, I need another beer."

He paused before he turned to leave and Wes, who was still watching the retreating backs of the yellow rangers' karaoke victims, almost missed the soft peck against his cheek, feather light, only lasting for about a second.

Only _almost_, though. If there was one thing Wes had learned over his years of working with Eric, it was that while the Quantum ranger wanted you to believe he did everything in a straightforward and direct way, for the things that needed care, that he was worried about, he exercised subtlety.

And yeah, it _did_ make Wes all warm and fuzzy inside to think that he qualified for that.

"_Ugh_, quit that goofy smiling Collins, you're getting worse than Danny." The voice and attitude were unmistakably Taylor's, and the former Wild Force ranger meandered up beside Wes slowly, taking in the rest of the room with a slow sip of her beer. "Frankly, I find it disgusting."

"And frankly, I find your declarations _hilarious_, because no one is more disgusting than Danny." Justin flanked Wes on his other side, giving Taylor's bottle a cursory look of envy before returning to his fruit punch. "And please, I shudder to even consider what worse-than-Danny would look like."

"That so?" Taylor lifted one challenging eyebrow. "Strange, considering how you seem to prefer dealing with the perpetual barrage of cheer otherwise known as 'Trip'. Speaking of-" She turned to look around the room, and smiled, a sly creep of a smirk that promised no good things. "I believe we have incoming."

Justin narrowed his eyes. "Incoming wha-_umph_._"_

Enter Trip, perfectly on cue, tackle-hugging his very favorite Turbo ranger (which, no matter how much Justin protested – as he was the _only_ active Turbo ranger - the title that stuck). Wes, who had become quite familiar with Trip and Justin's reunions once the brunette finally accepted Bio Labs' job offer, had deftly stepped to the side, pulling Taylor out of range for any enthusiastically flailing arms. How Trip managed it, and hugging, and hopping…well, it was an art form, to say the least. Wes stopped trying to comprehend it long ago and settled for recording video of it for Jen. She had a montage slideshow edited together for raining days; it was a true thing of beauty.

Wes' attention was pulled away from preparing his camera by a thoughtful hum from Taylor. "Well, that's new."

"What's-?" Wes looked up, and completely lost any grasp he had on the human language.

Yeah, it _was_ new.

It seemed that in addition to Trip's usual displays of '_I-missed-you-so-much, how-much, __**this-much'**_ the green ranger had decided to throw kissing into the mixture. To a very receptive audience, it would seem.

It wasn't like anyone was particularly surprised that Trip and Justin were making out (that took care of _that_ betting pool, it would seem), Wes just wondered when exactly they had started dating. Usually he noticed this kind of stuff.

Trip answered the question a second later, when he finally managed to pull himself away from Justin; face flushed and face the perfect picture of contentment. "I want to date you," he declared brightly. "And I want- oh, wait." Trip squinted down at his hand, and very clearly began reading something off of it. "I mean…_will_ you date me?"

"Umm…" Justin, who Wes was pretty sure to this point had been reacting purely on impulse, still looked a bit dazed, like he was having trouble coming to terms with what had just happened. "…Yes?"

He offered it carefully, as though he wasn't sure if Trip was being serious. The expression caused something to tighten in Wes' chest, despite the lightness of the situation. It was an uncertainty the blond could empathize with.

"Yes!" Trip echoed, bouncing in place. He was still latched onto Justin though, causing the Turbo ranger to wobble precariously. "Dustin!" he called over his shoulder, ignoring the still confused eyes of his newly-gained boyfriend. "He said yes!"

"Did you say the words?" Dustin yelled from across the room, much to the dismay of Trent, who was standing right next to the Earth ninja.

"Yeah!" Trip shouted right back. "You're right, it _was_ easy!"

Justin frowned. "What-?"

Trip cut off the question with another kiss; this one slower, sweeter, one that Justin melted into easily. It was good to see the doubt shift into something more confident, to see Justin get the bearings for something everyone else in the room had seen as inevitable.

"Who had money on them getting together at the reunion?" Taylor asked, elbowing Wes in the side. "I need to know who to glare at for the rest of the evening."

The blond thought about it for a second. "Adam, I think. Maybe Cam too."

"Insider information," Kim hissed as she passed by, surreptitiously taking pictures of the happy couple with her phone. "Doesn't count."

"It counts!" Dustin protested, having moved closer to take pictures of his own, much less subtly. His camera was bright yellow and covered in smiley-face stickers "He had as much information as anyone else. There is no inside."

The top of a cowboy hat peaked just above Kim's shoulder. "_Liiies,_" Joel hissed, narrowing his eyes mischievously.

Dustin considered him for a moment, torn between the green offender and a true Kodak moment, then pounced.

"_Outside_!" Wes reminded with a laugh, and pretty soon Max and Zach were in on Dustin and Joel's mock battle for honor, tumbling out the French doors with guffaws and warrior cries.

"_Ugh_, not so loud."

It took Wes a few seconds to recognize Lucas, sunglasses firmly glued to his face and Bloody Mary clenched in one hand like a lifeline.

"Kendall, you're supposed to be hammered _after_ the big party, not before," Taylor chided, smirking around the lip of her beer bottle.

"I finally understand that expression," Lucas said with a groan, rubbing at his temple pitifully. "We have medication, you know, to deal with this kind of stuff, but Jen's trying to teach me a lesson about drinking _responsibly_."

"The harpy," Taylor deadpanned. She had one hand digging into her pocket. In search of her phone, no doubt.

Lucas glared at her half-heartedly. "Laugh it up all you want." He paused, and then slouched, his posture unwinding as he leaned into Wes' side. "Don't worry about it Wes," Lucas said quietly, addressing the unvoiced concern. "It's a one-time thing, I promise. Just dealing with some…" Lucas swallowed, stirring his drink with a celery stalk in an apathetic manner. "Lot of stuff, going on right now, is all."

"Okay." Wes nodded, showing his support.

He knew Lucas would appreciate that more, and more importantly, he knew the blue ranger would call him if things got much worse.

The blond would make a note to ask Jen for updates, though. He'd fought by Lucas for a long time, and melancholy wasn't a normal look for him. Brooding maybe, but this, this was something different. Something worse.

"Hey, do any of you guys know if the Lost Galaxy team has shown up yet?"

Danny edged his way into their huddle quietly, one hand gripping a glass of ginger ale, the other laden with a plate of snacks. It always surprised Wes, how gracefully Danny could move for being such a big guy. Then again, Eric and Shane's physiques weren't anything to sniff at, and one of them was an honest to goodness _ninja_.

While Wes stewed over this, Taylor answered Danny's question. "Haven't seen 'em yet."

"I wouldn't worry about it Danny," Wes added, forcing what he hoped looked like a natural smile onto his face. "They have the farthest distance to travel, right? They should be here soon."

It had not gone unnoticed that Leo's team had yet to make an appearance. Danny wasn't the only one starting to get concerned (that honor went to Mike, who had arrived earlier to consult on some of Bio Lab's equipment tests), but for the most part the levity and excitement of this many rangers in one place at one time had managed to mask their absence. Hunter and Shane had noticed immediately, Carter and Andros too, but Wes didn't want to make a big deal of it just yet. Leo wouldn't want that.

It wouldn't stop Mike from worrying in his corner, Ashley, TJ, and Alyssa flanking his sides, each talking a mile a minute in an effort to distract the former Magna Defender, but it was a start. They could look into it later, when people wandered off to go to sleep. For now though, they could wait to see if Leo was making good on the promise to be 'fashionably late', and squash down all uneasy feelings that grew every hour that he didn't.

Danny smiled; it was timid, but true, and a little relieved. "Yeah, you're right Wes," he said, his grin widening. "I just really wanted to talk to Kendrix about this new pollination research study going on at-"

A startled cry over near the buffet table cut Danny off mid-sentence, and they looked over in time to see Jen point level up one very threatening finger.

"Zhane," she began quietly, her voice bearing a dangerous edge. "Put down the cheese tray, and no one gets hurt."

The silver Space ranger in question blinked owlishly, projecting an aura of total innocence that was somewhat hindered by the fact his cheeks were bulging with an assortment of refined cheeses, the tray clutched against his chest possessively.

Wes had seen Jen stare down hardened criminals with an undeterred focus that would make lesser men weep.

Seeing her use that same look on a potential dairy-thief was nothing short of _hysterical_. Seeing that same dairy-thief respond with a simple fluttering of his eyes…

It was safe to say, Wes was not the only person taking pictures.

Across the room, he traded a thumbs up with Katie, while Taylor made an unimpressed noise.

Jen tilted her head. "Zhane…"

The silver ranger took off, the tray held above his head like a trophy as he dashed across the room, spilling tiny blocks of cheese as he went. Jen took after him, a wicked grin plastered on her face. Zhane made it to about the door before the brunette tackled him about the waist, taking him out onto the lawn with a startled shout, the cheese tray forgotten behind them.

"At the rate we're going, this entire party's going to end up outside," Wes noted dryly.

He eyed the couch the ranger techs had said up base on – Cam, Angela, Billy, and the newly-inducted Ethan – had taken the brunt of the cheese spillage. Cam had managed to defend himself and Angela with his superior reflexes, but Billy and Ethan had been completely blindsided. It was odd, seeing the original blue ranger of Earth frozen still in total confusion, covered in small triangles of cheese. Beside him, Ethan was making the most of it and had confiscated some of Angela's crackers for his delivered snack.

"What happened?" Justin asked, deciding finally to come back up for air. Taylor made a disappointed noise, but said nothing, putting her phone away with a grumble. "Did we miss something?"

"Cheese!" Trip declared triumphantly, following Wes' gaze to the couch. "Oh hey, they're reviewing the newest set of blueprints for the Access Port, let's just-" Trip trailed off in a garble of techno speak, tugging Justin along behind him as he made a beeline for the couch.

Before he could completely escape, Lucas grabbed onto Justin's arm, giving him a slow once over. "Stewart, I'm only gonna say this once. You hurt him, I break your legs. Got it?"

"Got it." Justin nodded slowly. Between the lack of air, rapid changes, and mild confusion, Wes was surprised to see that the tech's answer was sincere and thoughtful, that he was giving Lucas' steady glare for as good as he got. "I'll be…I got it."

Satisfied, Lucas nodded. "Good." He gave Justin's arm one final clap, then released him, allowing the Turbo ranger to follow after his _boyfriend_.

What could Wes say, he was a big 'ole softy at heart too.

"I think this is even better than last year," Danny said around a mouthful of strawberry, lips slick with fruit juice. "Hey, did you have any luck tracking down those wizard guys?"

"Mystic Force," Lucas drawled quietly, the end of the celery making a definite _snap_ as he broke it off with his teeth.

"Merrick's tracing down a lead, I think," Wes replied, eyes going over to the referenced Wild Force ranger.

Ever since the great Doompot Debacle with the Ninja Storm team, the veteran rangers had made a point of tracking down the newest ranger teams and getting them settled into their private communication network Kai had set up. It had been easy to do with Dino Thunder, who had a veteran ranger already present to get them informed, but for Mystic Force, things were proving to be a bit trickier. They were private, secluded.

Cole had mentioned something at the last red ranger get together about Merrick 'knowing' a guy from 'back in the day'. Wes hadn't pressed for details, but the Lunar Wolf Wild Force ranger had steadily been working his way towards contacting the team. Things were looking optimistic.

Currently, Merrick had taken up residence in a private corner of the living room with a few of the other quiet rangers. He and Ryan were nodding along to a story Trent was sharing, a thoughtful, almost shy look on his face as he worked out the right words. Behind him, with her back to the huddle, Karone was standing guard, keeping one shoulder pressed companionably against the white Dino Ranger's as she shooed any straying ears away.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" Danny asked, surveying the antics around them with amused eyes.

Wes followed his gaze, a feeling of fondness overtaking him as he looked on this group of crazy people, individuals bearing a unique form of insanity that he was privileged to call friends.

Outside, the soccer match/fight for honor/revenge tackles had transformed into something Wes would call _extreme_ football. Jen had rallied one team, Kelsey and Joel flanking her while Carlos and Max played defense. Conner had taken lead of the others; doing an admirable job of focusing the chaotic forces of Dustin and Zhane to where they'd be most effective. Behind them, Adam and Zach worked in deadly synchronization, demonstrating how their connection went beyond just sharing the same morpher. There was fluid grace, leaping, bounding, and very, very much laughter.

Wes turned his eyes away just as Dustin executed a flying tackle into Max, losing control of the soccer ball completely in favor of serious noogies.

"Are Carlos and Zhane even playing the same game?" Danny asked, his voice full of laughter. Despite the question, his eyes were glued on Max, whose expression was somewhere between annoyed and murderous.

"I think they're playing tag," Lucas said dryly.

"I think they're letting loose some pent up frustration," Taylor added, turning her phone towards the windows. "At least, Carlos is."

"Makes you wonder how Andros does it." Wes smiled broadly, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Meditation," A quiet voice said from behind them. "A great deal of meditation."

"And Skittles," Cassie added, prodding Andros, the original speaker, into the circle. "Skittles are a truly amazing gift when it comes to settling disputes."

Lucas snorted, "Figures."

"Look, we all know they just need to get laid." Taylor rolled her eyes and fiddled with her phone, zooming for a better angle. "Just lock 'em in a closet and call it a day already."

Cassie laughed at the look of tired resignation on Andros' face. Or, as much as Andros could look resigned. It was very subtle.

While the red Space ranger wasn't the best at picking up human social cues (something he and Trip regularly bonded over), even _he_ knew there was something greater between his teammates than petty annoyance.

Danny made a noise of disagreement. "What about Mike?"

"What about him?" Taylor challenged, propping a fist against her hip in a casually threatening pose. "Who implied he could not be included in the sex?"

Andros' expression took on a deeper shade of depression. "I would prefer if we talked about something else, please."

"There, there, Andros," Danny said, moving the Space ranger away from the circle with a sympathetic pat on the back, aiming him towards Carter and his strawberry refuge. "I'm sure they'll figure it out soon."

"Could be worse," Taylor called after their retreating backs. "You could have _Hunter_ on your team."

"Hunter heard that." Said thunder ninja landed with quiet grace, dropping down from what Wes assumed was the ceiling. The blond stopped pondering after that, it would hurt his brain. "And Hunter would also like to point out that he was not _that_ bad."

"_That_ bad?" Lucas echoed. "Didn't you not talk to Shane for like, a month when you found out you liked him?"

"And made him cry?" Taylor added, raising her eyebrows.

Hunter shrugged these off with a vague wave of his hand. "That, my dear soul-crusher, is an exaggeration."

Shane glided past Hunter's back with a satisfied grin, ruffling his boyfriend's hair with one hand as he passed by. "_He_ was the one that cried."

"Exaggeration," Hunter echoed with a deft nod.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

This came from Blake who was – as far as Wes could tell – strolling across the ceiling, hand-in-hand with Tori as they made their way towards the bay windows.

"Show offs," Lucas muttered as Hunter generously bestowed his brother with a one-fingered salute.

"_Ah_ Lucas, green is very unbecoming on you," Cassie noted with a smirk.

Even through the glasses, Wes could see Lucas' steely glare. "I'm not jealous if it's _true_."

"I'm pretty sure you're still jealous," Wes said with a playful smile.

Lucas turned the glare onto him, opening his mouth to make some kind of protest, when Kira burst into the room, chest heaving and eyes wide.

"Everyone, Jason is about to destroy _'Don't Stop Believing'_ so if you want to leave this party with _any_ fond memories of Journey, I suggest you get your butts outside."

She motioned frantically behind her, where the karaoke room inhabitants flooded out into the living room with a mixture of laughter and horror, some covering their ears as they steered towards the French doors leading into the backyard.

Over the chaos to escape the speaker's reach, Wes could hear Tommy griping to his younger teammate. "I _told_ you he couldn't sing."

"But it couldn't have been _that_ bad," Kira replied, the encapsulation of despair. "No one should be able to be _that_ bad."

"Then, my dear, you have never met Jason," Rocky laughed, crowding up beside them. "We had to 'lose' Kat's karaoke machine during our Zeo days."

"Don't remind me," the pink ranger sighed, her Australian accent becoming somewhat wistful. "Adam did such a good job of it I couldn't find the thing for _weeks_."

Wes felt a body shuffle up beside him, and a head dipped near his shoulder. He didn't need to look to know who it was; Wes could feel the mischief pouring off of them with easy triumph.

"The trick is to pick songs they like," Jason whispered, finishing this off with a playful wink. Before Wes could say anything, the original Mighty Morphin' red was off, joining the herd as it moved outside, into the sunlight. Wes counted a grand total of eight seconds before he heard shouts of outrage from Tanya and Kira, but by then the red ranger had already joined in on the rowdy game of soccer, facing off against Adam and Zach with a vicious smirk.

Everyone else followed in suit easily, resituating under the warm heat of the sun. Some joined the chaos Jen had started, while others broke off into games of their own. It looked like Tori had started off a deadly match of tag with her team and the Ninjetti rangers, causing Dustin to abandon the battered Max in favor of streaking a yellow blur across the lawn, threading through people at dizzying speeds. He and Aisha bounded golden circles around each other, laughing and calling out words of encouragement.

The techs settled on the stone staircase, all crowding around Billy as he explained the graphics flashing across his tablet. Trip was nestled in Justin's lap, but Wes had the feeling that was more the work of the blue ranger's than it was his teammate's. He gave the Xybrian a cheerful wave when he glanced Wes' direction, and Trip returned it easily, the epitome of contentment.

"Part of me wants to hate him," Lucas muttered, a steady shadow by Wes' elbow. The Bloody Mary was about half empty now. "But I don't think I ever could, even if I tried."

Wes' eyes flicked to the side, sizing up his friend with a gaze that said _'Should I be worried?'_.

Lucas shook his head. _'I'm fine, Wes_'.

He wasn't, but he wanted to be.

Those updates from Jen would need to be frequent.

Another presence moved in on Wes' free side, but the blond didn't need to look to know who it was. He knew the familiar sound of those combat boots against too well to ever mistake them for anyone else but Eric.

"What the hell happened?" the Quantum ranger griped, fresh bottle of beer clasped in his hand. He must have gone to the far kitchen for some peace and quiet. "I leave you alone for five minutes and a brawl breaks out."

"An organized brawl," Wes corrected, grinning. "An organized brawl of _joy_."

Lucas and Eric groaned in unison, the former going so far as to roll his head back, glaring at the sky.

Over the rush of adrenaline, the blur of movement and traded blows, Wes could hear one voice above the rest, the embodiment of exasperation.

"Really people?" Justin was shouting, voice strained. "Do we have to do this _every_ year?!"

Wes didn't see the tackle that silenced the Turbo ranger, but he had a distinct feeling it was green, and very samurai-like.

The answer to Justin's question wasn't difficult to determine, even if Wes had known it was rhetorical.

No, they didn't have to do this every year. But the plain truth of it was, they _got_ to do this every year – as a privilege, a celebration of continued survival – and that-

That was worth it. That was true.

"Old age has made you soft, Collins," Lucas griped, staring into the bottom of his glass as though it held the answer to life's mysteries. "It's unbecoming."

"Glad to see that _someone_ will always be too cool for school," Wes replied with a grin, earning two more despairing groans from his teammates.

Sometimes, it was nice to be the corny guy.

"You know," Lucas cleared his throat, swirling his half-eaten celery stalk in his drink lazily. "I think Danny was onto something."

"Don't buy into his flower-power crap," Eric snorted. "I don't care _how_ nice a bouquet it is, some arguments cannot be settled by _floral _arrangements."

"Not that." Lucas rolled his eyes at the age-old argument. "I mean this." He gestured to the chaos on the lawn leisurely. "If it stayed the same…it wouldn't be so bad, I mean."

"_Now_ who's getting sentimental?" Eric drawled.

Lucas flicked some tomato juice at the Quantum ranger. "Shut up, Meyers."

It was a mistake, but Wes would never be the one to tell Lucas because A) Lucas wouldn't listen anyway and B) the evil part of him really wanted to see where this was going.

Eric froze, eyes lingering on the tiny, almost nonexistent spatters of red against his arm like they were a personal affront to his very nature. Slowly, he turned his gaze towards Lucas. "Really Kendall," he said, his voice a gravely threat. "That's how you want to play it?"

Lucas smirked. "Can't stand a little liquid, Meyers? What are you, five-_gah!_"

His glass went sailing into the bushes as Eric caught him in a rough tackle, pushing the younger Time Force ranger over the edge of the stone patio and onto the grounds below with an ugly guffaw.

"_Seriously_?" Lucas squawked, taking the sudden change as gracefully as a mostly-hungover individual could, abandoning his usual cool. "Oh, it is _on_," he declared amidst the sounds of frantic wrestling. Wes prepared his camera again.

He never would have thought he'd see the day where Eric felt at ease enough to rough house, felt comfortable enough with his surroundings that he wasn't worried about be judged or looked down on to just…let go. The fact that it was here, with these people, in _Wes'_ space-

It made everything just a little bit more surreal. In a good way.

Wes wandered over towards the rail of the patio, the karaoke track to '_Don't Stop Believing'_ a distant blare behind him, drowned out by critiques in the theories traded on the steps, fights in the bushes, and colorful gymnastics blurring in the sky, on the roof, the statues. Wes should just be glad they chose to set up in the living room opposite of the pool. That would have opened up a world of possibilities they were better avoiding.

"I mean it Meyers!" Lucas was shouting when Wes made it to the railing, his normally slicked back hair taking a beating to Eric's unforgiving headlock. "You pick a car, I pick a car, we go around the block and settle this like men."

"I'm good, thanks," Eric smirked, evading a flailing kick from Lucas easily. "Think I'll stick to street style."

"I got twenty bucks on Meyers!" Taylor shouted. She had one boot on a giggling pile of bodies, Kelsey and Katie playing along with whatever game the Wild Force ranger had started while Max squirmed beneath them, put off and annoyed.

"Sure, take the sober one," Rocky laughed, pausing on top of a statue, a struggling Blake tucked under his arm. "That seems fair."

"Put up or shut up DeSantos." Taylor grinned lazily. "We don't have time for your commentary."

"You know who my money's on?" Hunter landed on the grass with immeasurable grace, strolling towards the fighting Time Force rangers as though he hadn't just been performing impossible acrobatics at dizzying speeds.

He paused about eight feet away from them, his hands settling on his hips.

Wes took a picture of this for posterity.

"Alright," Taylor said, her stance resolute against Max's efforts to escape. "I'll bite. Who?"

There was a grin – evil and satisfied in one – and then Hunter lifted one eyebrow.

"_Me_."

He leapt into the fray with a shout, making Eric's mostly one-sided battle into an actual fight. Dustin followed not long after, and then there were more jumps, more cheers, more declarations of victory until the entire backyard was a mock battlefield of justice, rangers old and new trading blows with ease. No ill-intent, no real competitiveness, more like a bunch of children on a field day, taking pleasure in a rare moment of freedom and sunshine.

Carter sidled up beside Wes, offering up his plate of strawberries. "I suppose these are ours, now."

Wes smiled, placing his camera on a nearby table with care, and shrugged. "Probably not."

Carter turned, his brow furrowing with incomprehension, and Wes considered feeling guilty for about half of a second.

Then the half second passed, understanding settled onto the other man's features, and Wes pounced, strawberries flying everywhere.

It was a good day.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

What is the 'Access Port' you ask? Why, stay tuned (to future stories that will hopefully be written some day) and you'll find out!

So…yeah, that's it. That's the big ole' ranger reunion. I made an effort to mention every ranger. True, I featured some (my favorites) more than others, but I tried to give everyone a moment to shine, or at the very least, exist.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed this story (double thanks to you Vamps, for being the most patient, and most supportive beta reader there is). It's been a great four years, and I hope for the future to be just as good, if not better. Any way it turns out though, it will all be thanks to you guys. You have my appreciation for joining me in this insanity. It's nice to not be alone :)

Until next time :D

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><p><em>"Your heart knows all things great and true,, the things mere brains can never know."<em> - 'Look at the Sky', Urinetown


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